Harry Potter and the HalfBlood Princeand Other
by buffyfan32578
Summary: After Defeating the first, Spike finds himself at a freak school in England. Minor to Major spoilers for all chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince...And others.

Part One, Chapter One

"I love you," she whispered; but he shook his head, that loving light in his eyes.

"No, you don't. But thanks for saying it." He replied softly, and the tear that had threatened to be shed slipped ever so down her cheek as she squeezed his hand slightly.

"Now Go!" And with that Buffy turned and began her quick ascent upwards via the spiraled staircase leading up from the collapsing Hell mouth.

"Safe to say that school's out for the Bloody summer! He bellowed as a golden light began to encompass him before he disappeared, the thought of restfully laying his soul to sleep content in his mind.

"Ah! Oh, Fire! Fire!" Spike bellowed as soon as he realized he wasn't dust – but in fact being stared at by hundreds of kiddies seated at long tables. His hair, he'd realized, was not coping well with the fire burning off peroxide fumes atop his head.

At once, a barrel of water was upturned onto his head, it's sources or the dumper unknown as he stood soaked, looking up into the amused face of an elderly man.

"Spike, I presume?" he asked hoarsely, a crisp black hand holding himself up as he peered down at the stunned vampire, who nodded, dumbfounded. "What…elegant attire you've chosen." Dumbeldore added, peering at the crystal bauble Spike still wore around his neck. Spike, too, looked down at it, shifting a bit before becoming stock-still and allowing a parade of emotions play across his face. First he seemed extremely stunned, fingering the bauble, before becoming angry and lastly confused.

Looking up at the wizened man, then at the stern teachers, then at the buzzing crowd of students, and lastly, back to the headmaster.

"I think I'm injured…something's missing…" he mumbled before collapsing onto the ground.

"Buffy. It's good to see you. Glad to know you're okay." Angel greeted the Vampire Slayer warmly, hugging her close, despite the crusted wounds and puncture through her side. She winced a bit and pulled away. Angel scanned the group behind her.

"Glad to know you all made it," he said, holding her away from him. Buffy became quiet and Angel furrowed his brow and glanced again at Dawn, Willow, Giles and Xander.

"Oh, Spike." He said quietly, feeling awkward. Another second later, Buffy pulled away completely.

"We need rest. We're staying at the motel on fifteenth street, but I'll see you before long, 'kay?" With that the Scoobies left Angel in his office, watching after them with a stern face, determined not to let Buffy find out the consequences of the amulet…

The small group seemed quieter than normal after returning from the feast. Ron and Hermione were restless, and Harry was expressing a concern about genuine likeness of the strange new man and Malfoy. This, of course, led to him ranting on about Malfoy being a Death Eater, which soon ended the conversation due to the First years entering the Common Room and grouping around Harry.

"Let's get outta here, Harry." Ron suggested, already pulling Hermione to her feet.

"B-But Dumbledore said not to be in the corridors after hours! And besides, what about classes tomorrow?" But Harry and Ron had already swung out of the portrait, and Hermione stubbornly joined them.

The three decided to try and sneak to the Hospital wing, wanting to glimpse this strange man who'd been sent there with symptoms of shock and burns on his chest and arms. All together, they crouched under the Invisibility Cloak Harry still had in his inner pocket. Of course, this proved to be a feat – quite literally. Harry, looking down, saw the toes of his tattered trainers scud along the floor as the teenagers rounded the next corner, nearly toppling into Dumbeldore in the process.

They were outside of the Hospital Wing, the lean man in jeans and a slightly burned t-shirt. His Platinum hair was blonde as ever, looking as if it had been magically repaired. Harry ducked his hands around Ron and Hermione's mouths and the three crept quietly (and uncomfortably) back around the corner. If Harry strained just so, he could here the mumbled conversation...

"I've told you mate, no idea what these…Death Eater Blokes are. Don't sound to appetizing any ways…. Now why can't you just magic me the Hell back to good ole SunnyHell? Got a Slayer needs tendin' to."

"I assure you that Miss Summers will be notified of your…undead state here at Hogwarts. Been wanting to have a word with the young woman myself, really." Dumbledore smiled and threw a look over his shoulder to the spot where Harry, Ron and Hermione were crouched.

"Yeah, Mate, but there is still the problem of me being here, at this school…Vampire, remember?"

Hermione, despite Harry's hand over her mouth, gasped audibly. A second of tenseness was followed by the vampire's eyes narrowing as he looked around.

"Wazzat?" he asked the Headmaster, nostrils flaring. The three teens beneath the cloak began to slowly creep away before breaking into a run a few corner turns away.

"Nothing," Dumbledore said amusedly. "I heard nothing at all."

Upstairs in his office, Dumbeldore conducted up a letter in his flourishing handwriting. Labeling it with a seal, he scribbled 'Miss Summers' across the peak of the envelope and firmly tied it with a scarlet ribbon to the scaly leg of Fawkes. With whispered instruction, the bird flew away, neck stretched out to the night sky.

"Spike's alive." Buffy said matter-of-factly, hands on her hips in Angel's office. If he could, he would have paled even more, though he contained himself, remaining calm.

"How could you possibly-" he began, but her smile spread.

"Willow. She did a spell to contact his essence. It's out there, somewhere. England or Scotland, I think." She sat down before Angel, hands in her lap. "We have to find him Angel."

Buffy ducked quickly as the giant red bird circle three times around her head before dropping an envelope in her lap. Angel eyed it for a moment before resting back in his chair, content to brood.

"Open it Buffy. You'll have to hear this sometime." Angel said sullenly as Buffy looked down at the parchment. Sliding it open, she read it through. And through again. Spike was alive, and Albus Dumbeldore knew where.

"You know where this is?" Buffy asked quietly. Angel stood up and ran a hand through his brown hair, mumbling something.

"What?" Buffy prompted, clutching the parchment, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder.

Angel looked up remorselessly before his face became grave.

"Of course. I sent him there. At the cost of his soul."

The next morning, the whole Hall's main attraction was the pale man in the corner of the staff table, brooding and drinking a thick liquid from a goblet. Even when Harry was passed into Professor Slugworth's N.E.W.T. potions class, there was no happiness. Only curiosity and dread at a double period of D.A.D.A with the Slytherins and Snape.

"Do you think he'll be appointed to teach a class? No, no, I doubt it." Hermione babbled, examining her schedule. "He's a vampire. Maybe a hostage? Maybe he's good? No, no, shh… Dumbledore's about to speak…" The Hall's attention swiveled to focus upon the Headmaster, standing, arms outstretched.

"Calm yourselves, calm yourselves please." He motioned for silence and it was granted. "Perhaps you have noticed a guest in our presence? Yes, this is Spike…."

"I cannot believe this." Buffy raged at Angel, who had begun to walk away. "No! Don't walk away! I want to talk about this! Why? No, how? The Senior Partners? Is this a favor from them? Sending the man I love, who almost died trying to save the world to a freak magic school in England? And he's without his soul, too? What the hell, Angel?"

"You love him?" Angel twirled around on his heel and stared her down.

"Yes I do. Very much. Now tell me where to find him, now, Angel, or I swear…!"

"Okay…" Buffy realized that he looked very much like a wounded puppy at that point, his face blank and limp. His pretty brown eyes were lost, soulful as they were. But soul didn't give you insight and knowledge. Just a conscience. And with one, Angel couldn't let Buffy suffer by his hand. "I'll take you to him."

Hermione approached Spike after breakfast curious about the news that he would be teaching a new weekends class – physical defense. Harry and Ron had already sped off to their first class, and she still had a while before Ancient Runes started.

"Um, Professor…?" she asked, coming up to him as he drank deeply from his mug. She was slightly frightened at his Vampiric state, but she knew Dumbeldore would never hire someone he didn't trust – or at least knew something about. What with Security being too tight to exit the castle after hours, and all people and owls entering or leaving being checked with Secrecy Sensors, Not even vampires could come through without Dumbledore's consent.

"Uh, yeah. That's me. Spike." He said, a bit off ease at the young woman at his side. Hermione shifted from one foot to the other.

"I wanted to know about those classes. Where do we sign up?" Oddly enough, she found herself deeply attracted to him – the way his duster pooled and flared around his ankles, the cocky way he looked over the Hall at meals, his deep and full throated accent that went deeper than hers or anyone else's she knew.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "What's your name?" Hermione shifted as a pair of Sixth year Hufflepuffs' giggled and whispered as they passed.

"Hermione. Granger, that is." She said a bit breathlessly under his cocked eyebrow stare, Blushing furiously under the intensity of it, she looked away.

"Right, well, Ole' Dumblenook over there'll get it sorted out tomorrow, Bit. Now go on to bed." Spike watched with a slight smirk as the bushy haired girl walked away. Almost a year around the same type of Hormone-jumped girls had shown him a way around them. Call them pet names and look sexy as hell and they'll be jumpin' at anything you say.

Buffy gripped the armrests of the speeding jet, looking a bit sick when there was a loud **POP!** And a wizened old man with a braided silver beard that was nearly grazing his knees appeared in the seat next to her. She lurched forwards, and the man looked on serenely as Angel jumped, the pool of vomit narrowly missing his shoes.

"Ah, Mr. Angel. Miss Summers too. Wonderful to see you." Buffy wasn't feeling well enough to remark, as it felt as if her insides were laying splattered on the floor."

At the strange looks he was attracting form the both of them, he waved it away and smiled pleasantly.

"Oh don't mind me, really. I just stopped by to tell you that a sullen young woman will be awaiting you when you reach Hogsmead. You should be able to tell her apart from her popping pink hair.

With another loud pop he disappeared and Buffy hurled over the edge of her seat again.

All day, a warm feeling in her gut deprived Hermione of her studies, her thoughts drifting back to the handsome new teacher, the vampire. Her thoughts turned back to him every second, and when she met Harry and Ron for D.A.D.A. a few classes over, she buggered them with questions on who the Slayer was, wondering if he was in love with her. Although, she could notice the way Harry looked slightly relieved that her thoughts had turned from the mysterious Half-Blood Prince, she remembered to nag him every time he would remark about the ingenuity of the Prince, whoever he – or she, as Hermione liked to point out – was.

But even that thought didn't dampen her thoughts of the Vampire. Her and a vampire….How unlikely. And as Dinner approached at an outrageously slow time, she was on the edge of her seat ten minutes before the bell, hoping to be first to glimpse this vampire, about whom word had leaked, sending every other Hormone endorsed girl hurdling to the Hall, excitement and hope coursing through them like the sugary blood they carried in their veins.

It was just past dark fall and hunger had seeped over Buffy as the smallish jet landed in an expanse of field outside of a cast-iron gate that led through a guarded and tense village spread below the castle.

And sure enough, a woman in long ebony robes with pink hair that spiked upwards in a punk-ish way that reminded her of Spike, was waiting. The woman, over the noise of cooling jets, shook their hands.

"Name's Tonks. You're Buffy Summers? And Angel? Muggles, by the looks of yeh, but Dumbeldore says otherwise….Right then, follow me." The woman held out a illuminated wand as she led them through the village. A few shops were open, and Buffy jumped as once open doors slammed as they passed.

"Not very friendly, are they?" Buffy asked quietly. Tonks didn't answer, but Angel nudged her forwards, faster. They followed her in silence, until they almost passed an open shop. Buffy turned at the sound of squalling, croaking and hooting. Walking up to the window, she pressed her nose to it, and she giggled at the sight of something. Angel, and reluctantly Tonks, came up next to her even as the Shopkeeper rushed out, wand aloft and glaring menacingly.

"Who goes there? Muggles?" he questioned as Buffy looked up in a peasant blouse and jeans.

"How much?" she asked. The shopkeeper regarded her with a questioning wonder as he approached the window. Angel was prepared to do anything; he was so desperate to keep her happy. Pulling out a tinkling bag of Wizard currency he had collected from a vault at WR&H, he prepared to pay.

"Oh, er, Miniature hippogriffs. Newly imported from London. Fifty Galleons." The shopkeeper said gleefully expecting a pay. Angel weighed the bag effectively in his hand before tossing it to the shopkeeper.

"Consider it an apology." He told Buffy as the Shopkeeper handed her a silver one with a gold speckled rump and swishy gold tail. It was the size of perhaps a parrot, and it perched onto her shoulder contentedly, and she thanked Angel.

"All's forgiven." And then, as they turned back to the Castle, "I think I'm gonna like it here."

But her feelings soon changed as Tonks led them inside. She explained that the Professor had invited them to dinner, but that it would be best to keep quiet and inconspicuous until after dinner, when Dumbeldore would explain everything properly. It did not, of course, help that Buffy was constantly giggling at the tickling movements that her hippogriff made by brushing its furry tail against her cheek.

They turned into a large entrance way beyond the huge double Oak doors and Tonks led them to one of the sets of doors that led to the Great Hall, where already Buffy could smell the intoxicating smells of food. She smiled pleasantly at the prospect of food after flying on an empty stomach. As Tonks pushed the doors opened, a small group of students fell silent, their eyes traveling over the newcomers. Soon afterwards, a wizened old man at the large staff tables waved his wand, stretching the long table he sat at, and two new chairs popped out of nonexistence. With a nudged from Angel, she began to approach them, but stopped, heart hammering as she saw the cloaked man begin to slip away, which was extremely dumb as he was sitting on the side of Dumbeldore closest to Buffy and Angel, who were Both watching him with wide eyes.

"Oh, Balls." He muttered, much to the amusement of Dumbeldore and other students close enough to hear. Spike approached Buffy, hands pushed down in his pockets, shoulders hunched as he approached her with cautious eyes.

"Buffy…luv." He said softly at the tears brewing in her eyes. She crossed her arms, her bottom lips trembling. He moved his hand to brush the stray tear, but as his fingers neared her cheek, her eyes hardened and the mini hippogriff snapped at his fingers. Buffy backed away from him and approached the empty chair set for her. Smiling at Dumbeldore, biting back tears, she settled down and stabbed a piece of roast chicken with her fork.

"What the hell did I do?" Spike asked Angel indignantly. Looking up at the Slayer stabbing her meat with a vengeance. Angel shrugged, leaning back and observing the Hall of buzzing students. Only a few had noticed the appearance of two new faces, and those who did had thought nearly nothing of it.

"Maybe it's 'cause all you are is a soulless demon now," Angel replied with a tiny trace of a smirk, arms crossed before him. Spike gaped at him before growling in return.

"And you're much better, are you? Working for bloody Wolfram and Hart considered fighting the good fight nowadays? Nothing more than a poor excuse to get your oh so soulful hands on a bit o' dosh." He grumbled something under his breath before sending Angel a venomous glare.

"Not my fault that I lost my bloody soul," he murmured. Angel kept his gaze straightforward for a moment before dropping it back to Spike.

"I'm hungry." He muttered, and followed in Buffy's footsteps to take a seat next to her, leaving Spike to be seated by the greasy, black haired Defense Professor, Snape.

Hermione was one of the few who had marked the appearance of two supposed Muggles enter through the side door. Harry was talking off the top of his head about Quidditch tryouts and such nonsense, occasionally slipping offhand remarks on the Prince. Her eyes, and mind, however, were fixed to the petite blond and the dark haired man – who she felt an instant dislike of. She watched, a new kind of jealousy surging through her as Spike brushed his hand to her face, and smiled triumphantly when what looked like a miniature Hippogriff snapped at his fingers, and he withdrew.

"So, Herms, want to look over my essay Snape set us for me tonight?" Ron asked hopefully, biting into a soft doughy roll before desert was set before them. She was pleased deeply when the blond screeched at the dessert that was replacing her small mound of mashed potatoes and peas and carrots. She craned her neck to see if any one else was surprised at this before blushing lightly and sitting back.

"Hermione?" Ron prompted at the satisfied look on her face. She swished her head back to them, her grin slipping. Ron was so goofy, sometimes. Blueberry pudding was smeared over his top lip as he observed her strangely and carefully.

"Hermione?" he asked again, and her heart skipped a beat as she turned back to her plate. Smiling and spooning a bite of flaky cobbler she swallowed.

"Of course, you nit. Someone's got to make sure you pass this year, right?"

"Are you happy?" Buffy asked Angel quietly as Spike pushed ahead of them in the crowded hallway. They were making their way to the set of room that Dumbeldore was providing for however long they stayed. He shrugged, shouldering his pack a little heavier and pushing through a little harder. She swung her own heavy pack by her side, though being a bit more careful with the students.

"Do you think…maybe, is he happy?" she asked even quieter, her eyes fixed to the back of Spike's head. Angel darkened and shrugged again.

"None of us are especially happy after everything…I heard you got into a fight with the Scoobies before we left." He prodded a bit, and it was her turn to shrug.

"It's complicated. Dawn still hadn't patched things up with him, but she still missed him, and wanted to come, but I thought it too…dangerous. And of course, knowing Giles and Xander…. I guess they all thought I should stick around with them, like it was my job to make sure they had places to go after everything…." She sighed as they followed a silent Spike through a narrow hallway and up a small, carpeted staircase that wound around a thick, stone column engraved with a warrior scene.

"They expect too much of you…. I know what you mean." Angel confided. Buffy looked up to see Spike's head turned shortly towards them, as if he were listening, and Buffy felt a pang of…something. As they came into a cozy room with a couch and a few armchairs before a flickering fire, Buffy dropped her bag wearily.

"Yeah, that's it." She repeated, watching Spike disappear into a room by an open bathroom door. "Everybody just expects so much from me…"


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince...And others.

Chapter Two A Vampire and His Slayer's Other

Surely enough, the next morning saw Professor Dumbledore expressing deep gratitude towards having Spike teaching Physical defense on Saturday mornings in a spare room that would be 'set to accommodate his needs.'

Hermione happily noted that the blonde made no guest appearance at breakfast, but was disappointed when she found about all Third Year (that was the minimum age to take part in his class) to Seventh Year girls were lined outside the hall, pushing to sign their name to the clipboard.

Ron and Harry, who she had dragged with her, were feeling slightly uncomfortable at all the bodies pressing against them.

"Oh, Come on!" Hermione complained as she was pushed away, quill in hand. "Like Eloise Miggett could fight, the fat pig!" Harry and Ron were astounded by her behavior.

"Come off it, Hermione. You can sign up to be Spike-y's play toy another time." Ron said, getting a hint of jealousy in his tone.

"Not to worry, Pidge," said a throaty voice behind her. Hermione jumped to find a grinning vampire directly behind her. "You're name's top of the list."

"See, 'Mione. Now can we go? We've got double potions with Slughorn today. And Transfiguration." Harry nudged Hermione in the ribs, getting a bit uneasy around the grinning vampire.

"Oh, Fine!" Hermione consented finally, walking off haughtily. "But not another word about your precious Prince!"

Spike watched as the three teens disappeared down the corridor, and thought it best to leave as well before the swarming girls turned on to him.

"Hitting on sixteen year olds now, Spike?" Buffy asked, amused, coming up behind the vampire. Spike turned around and saw the smile, but also the discomfort.

"Just a spot of fun, luv." Her smile disappeared to be replaced with a frown at his pet names.

"Don't call me that." She said irritably. He held his hands up defensively, and she noticed the sun shining on his face. "And why aren't you all KFC right now?"

Spike held up a ringed finger to show her, starting to walk away, knowing she'd follow him.

"Old Dumbeldore enchanted it so I can walk and talk and not be all 'Gone with the Wind'-like. Actually knew the bloke from early vampire times. Helped me out of a tight spot." He said, almost reading her mind. "S'Why I'm here. Partly. Y'know, after the Grand Poof sending me here, soulless. Dumbledore's working on that bit.

Anyways, he needs help against this 'Lord Voldemort', so I said I'd help. Supposedly, I'm to be teaching the squirts about Nasties and defending themselves, should the need for physical defense arise in a battle of magic. Why isn't Red here, anyways? This does seem to be her area of expertise," He asked as they turned down a crowded hall, bright sunlight capturing the beautiful curves of his face and illuminating his blue eyes. She didn't speak, didn't hear him for being so captured by his beauty. He recognized the struck gaze she was gazing at him with and stopped.

"Sweet, did you here me?" he asked, a bit confused at the struck gaze she held to him now. Oh, how he recognized it well. It was the same longing gaze he'd stare at her with, love struck beneath her windowsill.

"Yeah, yeah…I heard you…Physical defense, ring…. got it all…" Spike shook his head, looking out at the sun that shone brilliantly from beside two drifting white clouds.

"God…How I hated that thing…so full of sunshine and happiness…. Reminds me of you, sweet. You were my Sun…." he whispered, and Buffy, back to herself due to him and little Nibble (The hippogriff) on her shoulder, squawking quietly as it wound itself in her golden hair.

"Stop it Spike…. Not here, please." He eyes implored with him, and his face fell before he smiled again, sadly.

"Why?" he asked her softly. It was just the two of them now- all the students had disappeared into their appropriate classrooms, leaving only a charmed paper airplane zooming headfirst repeatedly into a shut door, as if fruitlessly trying to reach a target.

Her eyes were full of a special guilt, and a sad longing, too. She looked away and muttered something Spike did not hear. He captured her chin with his hand and directed it back to him. He asked of her again with his questioning blue eyes, and she closed her eyes for a moment, Nibble's soft coos resounding in her ears.

"Because you don't have a soul." She whispered.

Spike dropped his hand immediately and his eyes hardened. Nibble stretched up on Buffy's shoulder, and she absently pet his feathery head with a forefinger, her eyes watching Spike pace before her.

"The Soul! It's always the stupid sodding soul, isn't it? It's never the bloody man, or vampire with you! Always the bloody soul!" he vented his anger in his words before turning to a tearing Buffy. Reproachful, he took her hands.

"What do I have to do, Buffy? Tell me, what is it that you want? How can I prove that I love you? After all, I'm only a man. I can love, if you could just give me the chance."

Buffy let out a tiny sob, catching it with a hand over her mouth, and she sank onto the ground, tears streaming down her face. She pet his face once over, reveling in the silkiness the sun gave it as she croaked the next words.

"I know you love me," she whispered, and a great light exploded in his eyes. "But I don't know if I can love you without a soul…" At this, his eyes became dark and hard, and she was amazed to see how differently he was from ensouled Spike as he spun away and slammed his fist into the stone of a door. A few screams were heard from inside the classroom, and a few moments later, Proffesor McGonagall stormed open the doors to find the Slayer sobbing into her knees, Nibble twittering at her feet.

Angel, who would normally be asleep during the fragile hours of the day, was awake due to the insistent knocking on his door. Twisting the sheets around his torso, he got up unwillingly from the scarlet four-poster bed. Upon opening the door, he was met by the fevered kissed of Buffy as she threw herself at him. She pushed him back against the bed and continued to kiss him, to which he didn't stop until she began to kick off her shoes.

"Buffy…No…My soul..." he spoke between kisses. He recognized she'd been crying as she pulled away, twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers. He also uncomfortably noted that her pet was hovering only a few inches away, and watching with very keen eyes.

"Are you happy? Completely?" she asked breathlessly, her mouth descending onto his neck as she pressed herself to him. He thought of Connor back in L.A., and immediately became saddened.

"No." he whispered. She lifted up, running a caressing hand over his smooth pale skin and smiled.

"Then shut up."

Spike himself disappeared from the castle upon leaving the crying Slayer with a few silver coins in his pocket and headed for the village of Hogsmeade, after passing tight security.

The Three Broomsticks was overly cheery for his type, so he entered the shabby and cheap place with a hanging sign reading 'Boars Head' and ordered a pint of Blood (Surprising enough, they even stocked human, though he settled on Pig's) with his firewhiskey.

He realized at once that this was most likely where the shadiest of characters out of the Wizarding World hung out, and extending his enhanced senses, picked up on interesting conversation…

"Fresh from Bermuda…yes, yes, illegal, but all the same, very pricey and fresh hatched…Seventy Galleons a piece…"

"Yeh," a filthy looking man in the corner with a tattered brown bag was hanging over a table, bumping head's with an old croon. "Yeh could say dey is Harry Potter's, pass'd to 'em from 'is Godfather, Sirius Black…Pure Silver, and yes, dat's the Black family crest….'ere, it'll come out, jest give 'er a few o' these rubs, tap 'er, then, go on, she'll come clean, she will… Thir'een Galleons…"

"The Dark Lord won't be pleased if Malfoy messes up, I trust you know that Severus?" A tall woman with cascading blonde hair and pouty red lips asked the man in a whisper. Severus…that was a name Spike knew, and he turned to see the Hogwarts teacher fuming over his mug to the woman.

"Yes, Eileen. I am perfectly aware – was it not by his orders and his words that I'm here in the first place? No, Malfoy will succeed. The Dark Lord will be pleased with the both of us." Spike furrowed his brow…The Dark Lord. It was a title he'd heard many times before, and knew he must not be too good of a man to go by that name.

Spike continued to watch the pair, but not much more talk of this 'Dark Lord' passed between them, so their small talk was nothing to him. Before long, he tipped the greasy barman and left the dirty pub.

When Buffy emerged from Angel's room, it was well past five, and she found Spike lounging on the couch, watching the flames flicker in the grate while holding a bottle of nearly-empty firewhiskey in his hand. When she emerged, his attention snagged onto her, and surprise passed over his face, and then a dark look, and he swigged from the bottle, panted slightly, and turned back to the fire.

Buffy watched him carefully, waiting for him to say something, but when nothing passed his lips she turned and left through the tapestry that led to the rest of the castle.

Friday night, Hermione set Harry's 'checked' essay on his lap and pulled Ron's towards her and began crossing out weak sentences almost immediately. Ron watched her appreciatively, munching on an apple he'd nicked from the kitchens earlier.

"You're a genius 'Mione." He said as she handed it back. She smiled, and he was quizzical at the creeping blush that settled high in her cheeks.

"Oh, thanks Ron." Turning back to her day planner, she ruffled through the next few pages and settled on tomorrows date. "Oh, and I signed you both up for Physical Defense with me tomorrow."

Ron nearly turned purple for choking on his apple. Hermione pointed her wand at his throat and muttered something. Ron's throat cleared up, and he gulped heavily for air before rounding on his bushy haired friend.

"You what?" he started on her before turning to Harry. "He's worst than Lockhart!" And to be sure, a couple of girls just under their year were exchanging snapped pictures they had snuck of him at various points of the day.

"I agree with Ron," Harry joined in. "I mean, Hermione, he's a vampire!"

Hermione shrugged, packing up her quills and books. Glaring back at them, she narrowed her eyes.

"Dumbledore decided he'd be a fine professor, so I see no reason why we should think he's evil, or bad anyways."

Ron and Harry shared pointed looks over her head.

"Snape," They chorused in unison, nodding. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned onto Harry.

"If you really think Snape is evil, then why not talk to Dumbledore? Go show him what proof you have, I'm sure Dumbledore's belief in Snape and Spike will just vanish at your most excellent point of view!" With a last angry snap of words, Hermione pulled her things to her and stormed up to girls' dormitory.

For a long time, Harry and Ron said nothing, but stared intently at each other. Ron spoke first.

"I think she just stood up for Snape." He said in a deathly quiet whisper, his face pale as a sheet.

"I think she's under the Imperious Curse," Harry joked, though still confused at their best friends' behavior.

Spike lay, looking up at the dimming candle chandelier above him. Serpent, Lion, Badger and Raven twisted themselves around the thick brace of it, and he scanned every fine etch in the painted silver. His eyes were beginning to drift close, the thick weight of his soul problem suffocating him immensely…he thought he saw the silver serpent and the bronze lion stir in their solid slumber, and it jolted him as the last of the candles flickered out with a waxy sizzle.

Finally he pulled out of bed and slipped into a pair of jeans – Dumbeldore had magically supplied him with a wardrobe of jeans and cotton shirts, as well as a few billowy black, silver-lined robes.

He was silent as he stalked the halls, remembering that first guided tour the night he'd arrived here. Determinately, he picked his way through the winding halls, and across the moving staircases until he passed through the open archway of the library.

In his lifetime – and unlife – he'd seen too many books, and had soon grown to despise many of them, though poetry still held him rapt in its embrace. But that was not why he was here.

He followed the index cards that directed him through sections on Dragons, Mermaids, hexes, jinxes and charms until he found the rather small section on vampires that joined a shelf with 'Essences, Souls and the Mystic', which he also grazed through.

He finally found himself stacked with books, and straining his Vampiric eyesight to read the small, fine print. But his mind was getting heavy… he'd hardly slept, remember? Not since…not since two nights before their last apocalypse…catnaps not withstanding. He'd had one the day after the apocalypse…when he'd found himself here…surrounded by all these freaks…and not enough sleep weighed heavily on such an old mind…old mind such as his…

Buffy never slept that night. She returned late from walking through the castle after Spike had departed, though she thought him asleep. In the morning she found she had stayed awake the whole night staring at the dancing flames. It was so strange to be here, wasn't it? To be surrounded by a world she never knew existed. They were like her. A world of their own. Strange when you find the people you share something with. You're never really expecting people to understand you.

"Where's Spike?" Angel asked, emerging from his room after poking a head into Spike's. Buffy shrugged.

"He's got a class, hasn't he?" she snapped. "Maybe he's there." Angel seemed off put by her tone and shrugged.

"His class starts at ten, after breakfast. It's seven in the morning. Where could he be?" Buffy was quiet for a moment, contemplating where the de-souled, de-chipped, and de-moralized vampire could be. She suddenly got an extremely alarmed expression and looked to Angel, who seemed to come to the same conclusion.

"You don't think-?" Angel asked, horrified.

"He wouldn't!" Buffy argued, though not entirely convinced herself.

"It's Spike. And he doesn't have a soul. Are we gonna put some innocent kid's life at stake?"

"I'll get mine, just in case."

Even Nibble was prancing around uneasily, snapping the air as she flew after Buffy.

When Buffy emerged from her room with a couple of stakes and Nibble perched on her shoulder squawking in alarm, Angel took a few and disappeared almost immediately, Buffy following at a hasty speed.

"Spike!" Buffy shouted as she stuck her head through door after door. Most were empty classrooms, but a few 'early riser' students and their girlfriends/boyfriends looked very annoyed as they tried to cover up. Occasionally, portraits or statues would jump aside and students and teachers would pop out their sleepy heads to watch the blonde rush past, stake raised. A few even attempted to follow her.

At last, she came through the open archway of the library, calling his name in a breathless frenzy. As she nearly passed through, there was a loud thunk, and the bottle blonde poked his head up from between a row of shelves. A stooped librarian shoved her beaky nose through her door and shouted some unseemly words before disappearing once again.

"Buffy?" Spike asked, confused at the sweaty, huffing blonde.

"Oh, God, Spike! I thought – we thought-" she made haste to stow the stakes out of few, but the vampire saw and furrowed his brow.

"You thought I'd been killing, didn't you?" he asked in a deathly low voice as he picked himself up, shirtless and shoeless, from a pile of books. She blushed furiously and made to approach him.

"I'm sorry! I was stupid! Stupid idea. I just panicked when you weren't there this morning…"

"So all of a sudden Spike's gone back to torturing and maiming just because he's de-chipped and soulless?" There was that growl, almost a snarl in his voice as he approached her – that masterful gleam of dictation in his eyes. "Wrong luv," he whispered, diving his mouth to rest near her ear as he made to pass her. "I'm still as Slayer-whipped as ever."

Buffy stood still for a moment after the vampire past by her. Her breathing was heavy and she felt tears constrict her throat at his hurt words. Blinking them back hurriedly, she felt the shameful approach of curiosity, and moved through the shelves to kneel at the small litter of books.

" ' _An Exploration of Vampiric nature_', '_Souls: Removing and Restoring'_, '_Mysticism and Vampires._'" She needn't even flip throughout he rest of them, nor repeat them aloud. She knew what he'd been doing back here, and she felt even more foolish for it. Tossing down the last book, she cuddled Nibble to her chest and muttered into its miniscule wings.

"What've I done to him?"

Spike stood before the large mass of students. The classroom he'd been provided was, by all means, set to accommodate his needs; there was a weapons chest full of wooden quarterstaffs and swords, crossbows and daggers. A couple of lifeless dummies that had been enchanted to fight when the time came were hanging from hooks along the far wall, and mats covered the expanse of the room. Other items were pushed against the wall until time came for their use.

"Alright kiddies, wands away. Too dangerous to me." Spike shouted to the rather large group of teenagers that were standing in the large sunny room, wands held nervously. With a sigh of relief, the group pocketed theirs and turned their attention back to them.

Looking back at them, he almost laughed; well, he did, really. They were a motley crew. Most, granted, were infatuated teenage girls, but still…they ranged in so many assorted types as Baskin Robbins had flavours. But there were more than thirty-two. Much more.

"Oho-Okay. First off, who's here cause they wanna fight, and whose here a 'cause they wanna stare at my youthfully good looks?" Almost immediately, about half the population of students irrupted in giggles. It was to Spike's horror that one particularly strange boy was among them, giggling and eyeballing him with more than normal interest.

"Alright, chits, you're out. As in now." Sadly, the girls picked up their bags and turned to leave. Spike looked once more over the crowd and picked out a small huddled group of boys and girls that were still old enough for him to bounce on his knee. Looking to the shortest, he kept a straight face.

"What year are you, boy?" he asked. The boy looked a little spooked and looked around, as if he thought Spike was talking to someone else.

"Second, Professor." He mumbled. Spike leered at him, shaking his head.

"Out. All of you – and whoever isn't in Third year or above." He watched in mixed delight at the forty or so students left.

"As you all should be very aware of, my name's Spike. I'm a teacher here only for the blood and pay. And the fact that I owe Dumbledore. Good man, he is. And yes – I am a vampire. Of the bloodsucking variety, though you'll most likely like me compared t Peaches, who'll be skulking around somewhere all soulful and shagging the Slayer and whatnot. Oh, yeah. Slayer. Chosen One. Fights the nasties at night, superhuman powers and whatnot. She'll be the tiny blonde running through shouting my name, stake raised high." The class watched on amused as the vampire lost himself in his rant. "But anyways, the reason Dumbledore decided to start this whole fiasco of a class is on a count of some new nastie – or old nastie, as I've heard. Voldemort." The whole class – save a select one, the boy he'd seen with Granger, flinched at the sound of the name. Spike stopped pacing and cocked his ear as if listening. "Right, well first lesson of the day…"

Teaching. Pfft. William the Bloody, Scourge of Europe. Teaching. Who'd a thought that the self-proclaimed Billy Idol of Vampires would be standing before this classroom of children, teaching them? Old Spike, the Spike who'd kill the Prime Minister before National television if the opportunity had been provided was teaching. Children!

Facing them, he put his hands to his mouth, contemplating them. After a moment, he clapped his hands, startling most of them and smiled.

"Say your enemies name. Lord Voldemort." Once again there was a collective shudder, but one boy said the name aloud. Spike grinned and pointed to him.

"What's your name?"

"Harry Potter." The boy answered, shunning the looks he collected from his classmates.

"Well, Potter, ten points to your house…Gryffindor." Spike turned on his heel, his duster flaring. "Well, then, first lesson. Know your enemy. Say his name. I don't want the 'You-know-who' shit. I want answers. Now."

The rest of the class was spent repeating his name, until even Neville could bellow it and people would laugh rather than flinch, though some still struggled a bit. When Ron hadn't been able to even utter the first syllable without choking up in fear, Spike had slipped into came face and pinned him to the wall, fangs grazing his pale neck until he shouted it loud enough to be heard in the hall. A passing teacher had poked their heads in, eyes wide when they saw the vampire, teeth sunken by the students' neck.

"I think his methods are…different." Hermione finally admitted as the three left together, Ron's hand still clamped possessively over his neck. Harry grinned at her with a knowing look.

"At least he's gotten to you two where I haven't" Harry said to Ron, referring to the class. Ron looked over at him, eyes wide.

"Yes, I think I'm more afraid of him then I'll ever be of Voldemort," He said, craning to look once more at his neck, affirming that it was still puncture free. A couple of First years got wide eyes at the mention of the name, and scurried past.

"Yes, well, at least we won't be getting assignments from him. I hope." Hermione thought, guiltily thinking of the abused stack of homework still on her bed, waiting for her knowledgeable hand.

The three strolled out side, aiming for the lake. It was a warm day, and the little cloud coverage there was, was reflected in the serene lake. Settling themselves under an old oak, Hermione stretched herself out onto the ground, using her pack as a pillow as she looked up through the green leaves that shaded them.

"Do you still wonder who the Prince is, Harry?" Ron asked out of the blue. Hermione at once became rigid, and Harry was reminded of her disapproval.

"Yeah, a bit." He said truthfully. Ron nodded and rolled up the sleeves of his robes, leaning back into the tree and fetching a bag of nuts from his pack.

"Do you think Spike loves this Slayer girl?" Hermione asked, out of the blue as well, and Harry saw Ron roll his eyes.

"Hermione, enough of it, please. The man-vampire's taken. Get over it." Ron told her exasperatedly. Hermione nudged Ron's thigh with her foot and sighed.

"I was only wondering because it looks like she's the one that's taken!" Looking out towards the castle, Harry could see the Slayer walking the grounds in a set of newly acquired pink robes, frameless pink sunglasses perched on her nose and her blonde hair pulled back from her face.

"What is a Slayer, exactly?" Harry asked in a quiet voice. No one said anything for a moment, each entertaining their own ideas before Hermione got to her feet.

"I don't know, honestly, but I've got to go." Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she walked away from them, towards the castle. "I'll see you back at the Hall for Lunch!"

"I think I messed up Angel." Buffy said quietly to the vampire as they strolled the grounds. He too had been given an enchanted protection ring, and he held her arm as they walked slowly.

"How? Because you suspected something?" He squeezed her hand a bit to reassure her. "It was your nature. And his, we thought. You've got to get over it. Try to help him."

"Teach? You're not considering me teaching, do you? Cause so not a possibility. And with him? He hates me right now. I mean, Maybe I wasn't too wrong in thinking a soulless vampire would attack a bunch of kids, but I feel even worse that he was actually doing research."

"Research to get his soul back.." Angel said knowingly. Buffy gave him a funny look.

"No. It was the fact that he was doing research. Period. I never thought he'd do something like that, especially with out the chip." Angel stopped at once and stared at her.

"He's chipless?" he asked, amazed. Buffy smiled weakly and shrugged.

"In a way." At Angel's look she groaned. "Look, he got his soul once to prove that he loved me. And even then I hardly wanted to admit that he loved me. But these past few days I've admitted that he can love without a soul. I'm just not sure I can love him without it."

"Well, truth be told, if I were…y'know, a woman, which I'm totally not gay either, just a word from an old vamp gramp… I'd love unsouled Spike just as much." When Buffy looked away, sad, he took her chin and looked at her. "It's a matter of how much you love him with and without a soul. Do you love him now?" Buffy took a moment to answer, staring intently into Angel's eyes, thinking do hard it was almost painful.

"Yes, I-I think I do." She whispered. Angel smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I guess being all soulful isn't that rewarding any more." He said, brushing back a lock of her hair. "Gives you a conscience and doesn't let you hurt others. In a different way than the chip, too." Buffy started to cry, her hand covering Angel's as she watched the light dancing across his face, how unreal he looked. Angel ducked for a quick kiss, though Nibble clucked her tongue. Buffy giggled, pressing her forehead to his.

"Go tell him, Buffy." Angel Whispered. Buffy needed no other prompting as she rushed at top speed to the castle, Nibble flying uneasily behind her, straining and squawking.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince...And others.

Chapter Three Hermione's Wish

Spike attacked the living Dummy with a newly acquired fury Buffy hadn't seen since pre-soul days. The quarterstaff nearly snapped in two several times as it connected with loud thwacksagainst the dummies defensive pose. Grabbing her own staff, she intercepted his blow, pushing the Dummy to the wall where it was stilled. Spike looked up, startled for a moment at her smiling face before continuing, wordless, with attacking her staff.

"How was your class?" Buffy asked as she pinned him a few inches above the ground with her staff. He grinned, pushing her away with renewed strength.

"Okay. Didn't get to vent as I might've liked to." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively to her, narrowly missing clocking the poor Hippogriff that was fluttering around with the edge. Buffy rolled her eyes, parrying the intense blows to her feet as he tried to trip her.

"Nope. Not gonna happen," she said with a false determination as she tripped him up and put the staff to his chest as if to stake him. He dropped his own and panted slowly, wiggling his hips as she stood over him.

"Spike…" she said warningly. But she dropped her staff nonetheless, though she made no other move.

"I'll forgive you for shagging Peaches." He said temptingly. She groaned, dropping to her knees so that she was straddling his chest.

"Why do you do this to me? How?" She asked quietly, bracing herself, hands splayed on his chest. His hands inched slowly up her legs, hardly covered but for the robes she wore.

"You like it," he whispered, feeling her shudder. In an effort to cease his words, she bent low over him, kissing him slowly, nibbling his lower lip as she pulled away. He grinned, his hands reaching for the zipper between them.

Hermione slipped through the throng of students that were drifting outside for the weekend air and knocked once on the classroom door. When nobody answered, she shoved the door open. And froze. Pulling the door closed with the quickness she'd opened it with, she slumped back against the door, breathing heavily.

How could that be? She'd seen the pink robed Slayer straddling him, heard her breathy gasps…. Wiping a stray tear, she turned and dashed away, headed for the library.

Anyanka pulled nervously at the plain black robes and cursed the seventeen-year-old body she was inhabiting. Curse D'Hoffryn too. He'd brought back from the Sunnydale ruins, but to put her in the hormone infused body surrounded by these witches and wizards…oh, how she shuddered to be…

Shouldering her bag, she turned towards the library, hoping to find some miserable girl wanting to give her crush a good poke in her direction, or something.

Luckily enough, she found a sniffling girl sitting between two bookshelves, crying.

"Hey," she said rather forcefully, spooking the girl. "You okay?" The girl shook her head and Anya sighed, crouching down before her and thanking the PTB that she at least looked like her old, attractive self.

"Fine. What's wrong?" She asked, pulling at her short brown hair. Hermione looked startled at the girl – who must be a seventh year, though she looked so much older – with the blunt ways and words.

"Hermione." She said quickly. "And - oh, it's nothing, just a stupid teenage wishful thinking."

"Well, tell me." Anya said excitedly, her eyes wide.

"Oh, well, I," Hermione started, wiping her eyes. "It's just that, I just wish Ron would notice me. Y'know, in that _way._ And Proffesor Spike, Oh well he's taken already. But that was just a stupid crush. He's taken by the Slayer…"

Anya furrowed her brow at this, but nonetheless performed her bit of magic. Turning to Hermione, she said those two words any girl longs to hear.

"Wish Granted."

Hermione, confused, continued to Hall after the fateful encounter with Anya. Harry and Ron waved her over from the Gryffindor table, their plates full of sandwiches and chips. Turning her head once to the staff table, she saw Buffy and Spike talking deeply together, occasionally smiling and turning to the other vampire.

"Hello. How was your afternon?" Hermione asked as she sat between the two boys and grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice. Ron, next to her, blushed deeply and murmered something.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked him, feeling odd between the two boys at once.

"Don't worry about him, Herms. He's not feeling well today. At least, that's how he's been acting." Harry said smiling guiltily.

"Mmm-Hmm." Hermione didn't believe the two for a minute, not with the way Ron's hand was sneaking around her waist. Ignoring the hand, she turned back to Harry.

"So when are Quidditch tryouts?" she asked, though not at all entertained by the subject.

"You're very pretty 'Mione…" Ron mumbled, his hand slipping lower. Hermione blushed, a little pleased herself, but tried to concentrate. Maybe Anya did something after all…

"I posted a notice to have them tomorrow. We need two new beaters. Keeper, Chasers…Katie Bell insists on trying out either way, even though she's one of the best we've ever had, and Ginny's also vying for a spot as a Chaser."

Hermione was having trouble keeping up with what Harry was saying, and with her own lack of interest in the subject, she was fixed more and more on Ron's hand inching over her thigh's and his breath on her neck…

"Ron," she said suddenly, standing up. "I just remembered that I never finished your essay for Snape." She looked at him in a flirtatious and expecting way before he got it and stumbled after her.

"Yeah, right." He said, awestruck by her. "See ya, Harry."

Harry watched incredulously as the two disappeared from the Hall, nearly running as they neared the double doors. Shaking himself at the horrible feeling in his gut about their behavior, he looked further down the table to see Ginny leaning into Dean Thomas and running a hand up and down his forearm. He felt his heart twist itself in his throat, and was almost sick before a small mousy girl approached him with a scroll.

"For you, Harry." The girl said, smiling broadly. Harry took it awkwardly to see Dumbledore's scrawled writing. Tonight, It read, was to be their first lesson.

Buffy lay with her bare legs extended to the fire and her eyes closed peacefully. Nibble, too, was laid out on the hearth, her little birds' head dozing in her outstretched talons and her spindly horse legs twisted around, her golden tail flicking occasionally. The heat of the fire warmed her, adding extra pink to her already flushed cheeks. Spike lay on the same couch, bare-chested and with his head in her lap.

"Buffy," Angel's voice startled the Slayer from her reverie, and she looked at the vampire as he stood near them, bag slung over his shoulder.

"Are you leaving?" She asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Spike, who was dozing contentedly.

Angel nodded, running a hand through his thick hair absently. She smiled up at him and rested her hand on Spikes smooth chest.

"Thank you." She said as he turned to leave. He looked back and smiled.

"Yeah." He said quietly, halfway out the portrait hole. "Your Welcome."

With that, the portrait hole closed, and Buffy closed her eyes once more, petting Spikes smooth face as he smiled, his eyes closed, and purred.

When Harry returned late that night, he found Ron and Hermione tangled into each other on the couch, each looking rather pleased. Smiling at them, but also worrisome of where it might take their friendship, he sat in one of the deep-seated armchairs and waited for them to notice him.

When they did, he recounted how he and Dumbledore had traveled into the Pensive, of the memories they'd seen. Both of them were wide-eyed and attentive by the time he'd said his last.

"Wow," Hermione muttered, amazed. "That's just…wow."

"And, strangely creepy. I mean, you were practically in their heads." Ron added. Harry nodded quietly.

"So what've you done today?" Harry asked, reclining and feeling relaxation enter him at once.

"Oh, um, well, nothing. Really." Ron muttered. Hermione however, got a sudden excited expression before pulling a leather bound book from her bag.

"I went to the library. Researching Miss Summers." Hermione said, flipping through the crusty pages.

"Herm's brilliant, right?" Ron said, hugging Hermione's waist and smiling idiotically. To Harry, Hermione blushed and smiled, satisfied.

"Yes, well," she continued, scanning the page with her index finger. "Oh, here it is… ' The Slayer, the Chosen One, is a slayer of demons, vampire's and evil. It is her sacred duty to protect the world from these forces. She works alone as a guardian, and it has been so since the very First Slayer, an African girl of unknown parentage and name who was taken and infused with a part of a demon to enhance her, make her as she is. The First Slayer was said to be animalistic, only thinking to kill. Though she had many offspring with many men, none were Chosen. The second Slayer was a young Englishwoman with no connection to the First Slayer named Isabelle Martin. She died at eighteen in Prague.

Since then there have been Watcher's, who guide and train the Slayer throughout her existence, and the Guardians – an ancient people's hardly seen by human, Slayer of Watcher. They are near extinction as well, only five hundred known to be around still.'"

Hermione closed the book, staring intently at it for several moments before looking up. Harry seemed interested; watching her carefully, while Ron ran his hands over her thighs, brushing them while staring up at her, his face full of fascination.

"Not to say that isn't interesting, Hermione, but why'd you research this? What use is this to us?" Harry was interested, and he voiced it so, eyes still locked to the rubbed leather of it.

"Just curious…" Hermione said quietly.

Over the next few days, Quidditch tryouts were held and schoolwork was as dull as ever. Harry waited intently for another lesson with Dumbledore, but he was frequently absent from mealtimes. He made it an obsession, and Hermione escaped it by searching relentlessly for the girl named Anyanka. When nothing proved helpful, she sought help.

"Professor, Can I come in?" Hermione stood awkwardly at the doorframe, watching the sparing match between her Professor and the Slayer, and was transfixed. Every move she made, he blocked. The fight was seemingly seamless. There were no breaks, no slips. Every second seemed choreographed, right down to where Spike snarled and lifted her into the wall, pinning her steadily, fangs poised over her neck.

Buffy giggled, batting his hands away and landing onto both feet when she slipped down. They both turned to Hermione when they heard her clear her throat. Buffy waved, grabbing a bottle of water.

"'Lo Pidge," Spike said, panting slightly, and Hermione stepped in a bit nervously. Buffy was leaning back into the wall, gulping her water and watching Spike with a trusting eye as he listened to Hermione.

"Well, I have this problem," she started nervously, twisting her hands in her pockets. "My friend Ron is suddenly all over me – and I'm really only complaining a little, but I think it might have something to do with this girl I met…"

"What did she look like?" Buffy asked, suddenly very interested in Hermione's problem.

"Her name was Anya, I think. Brown hair, brown eyes. I think she was a seventh year, she looked a little older."

"I thought she was gone? Dead by what you said." Spike said, turning to Buffy.

"Yeah, I mean, she never made it out, we all just thought – "

"D'Hoffryn brought me back." The brunette standing behind Hermione, who pointed at her accusationly, interrupted them.

"You! You're the girl who made Ron be…all over me!" Hermione shouted, but she was quieted at the firm hand on her shoulder.

"Quite Pidge." He told her, standing before the brunette.

"Anya, Demon girl." He greeted her. "Take it back like a good girl."

"Spike. Still banging every living creature in sight on top of the table?" she quipped, ignoring Buffy, who had shouted an indignant 'hey!' at the last remark. "And I can't. Take it back, or leave."

"Why Not?" Spike asked.

"Do you know the havoc out there because of this…Lord Voldemort? He's the Big Bad you guys should be worrying about. Not me." With a huff, she crossed her arms and flounced her hair. "I'm nothing compared to what's to come…"

Buffy pushed past Spike and crossed her arms, staring the brunette down.

"Hiding behind the protection of others as always, Anyanka?" she hissed. Anya narrowed her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth.

"You won't be able to stop this guy, Buffy. Though I could be helpful if you knocked off the superhero act for once in your goddamn life."

"I think you'd better go, Pidge," Spike said quietly to Hermione, who resolutely shook her head.

"Not until she fixes Ron." Upon hearing this, Anya spun around, her face contorted into that of a demon.

"Fine!" she spat, and snapped her fingers. Hermione, unsure, looked to Spike, who nodded.

"Go on, Pidge." He said, quietly, watching Buffy and Anya stare down. Hermione smiled and nodded, giving Anya one last glare before leaving. It was while Hermione had turned to leave that Anya had whipped out a wand and was now shooting jinxes and hexes at Buffy. Cursing, Spike lunged for the demoness, bringing her to the floor. Her wand rolled away with a clatter, and Buffy swept it up, pointing it at Anya.

"You don't know how to use it!" Anya sneered as Spike held her down. Buffy smirked, aiming it well.

"I think I can figure it out." Buffy said, remembering the words Anya had said when attacking her. "Stupefy!"

The room was filled with bright red light that pulsed through the classroom. When it finally receded seconds later, teachers and students were shoving their heads through the door to see the blonde crouching under the power of her wand as a vampire stood over an unconscious Anyanka.

"Did I hit her?"

When Hermione entered the common room, she wasn't sure what to expect from Ron. As she sat nervously beside him, where he was reading the Daily Prophet. When she sat back, she was partly glad to find his hand reaching for hers, but she knew the spell had worn off. Harry smiled.

Thank God Ron wasn't trying to make out with her.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others

Chapter Four Hog's Head

With Dumbledore's consent, a wand was purchased for Buffy, and she spent the weeks training in both magic and Slaying. Though there was little to nothing to Slay, she came in handy plenty of times- rounding up the scorpion-like creatures the Care of Magical Creatures teacher called Skrewts, breaking up fistfights – which were more common among First Years than the older students and extremely easy to pull apart.

There was a sort of schedule Buffy had mentally planned through her first few weeks as a student/ teacher at Hogwarts. Throughout the week, her time was divided between studies, fighting and Spike. Little contact was made with her friends – who had all settled down in L.A. to help Angel, though a few owls came from the broody vampire with news of Dawn's insistent whining about her sister, and it was then that Buffy felt pangs of guilt, and she confided nearly everything to Spike, who was yet to be ensouled.

It was now, resting before the fire, curled around a pillow and a sleeping Nibble, that she was disturbed by insistent knockings, and finally the portrait swung open. Buffy looked up and froze.

"Buffy," Dawn greeted, looking furious. Behind her, Angel shrugged.

"Atta Girl," Spike roared as Hermione pounded into the punching bag. It was a Monday night, and she'd come to him for extra practice. Ron and Harry were settled in the corner, looking highly amused as Hermione pounded into the bag, making it swing hazardously from it's chain. Sweat licked her face; her bushy hair was damp in its floppy bun.

Her taped hands fell against the bag and she slumped against it, panting. Spike, too, ceased to egg her on. Turning to Ron, she smiled.

"I'm beat." She panted as Spike unwound her hands. He smirked and pat her on the back as she fetched her stuff.

"Hey, Spike?" she asked. They had long since been on first name basis, building a steady friendship as she put all efforts behind her studies and her newfound liking of training with the vampire. "Do you know much about Fenrir Greyback? The Werewolf?" she asked, heaving still. Spike stopped, studying her face.

"Snape set you an essay on 'em, then?" he asked, frowning at the thought of the D.A.D.A teacher. Hermione nodded.

"Evil Git is what he is. Knows quite well that we can't write a five-hundred word essay on a character there's only one passage on in the whole bloody textbook! And the library's closed since they've been remodeling the place. Bringing in new books apparently." Ron spoke up, Quill poised over his parchment. Harry had a thoughtful moment of silence.

"There's something going on with him. Malfoy to." He said, thinking to the odd behavior the two had been exhibiting. "I mean, Malfoy's not been to one of the Quidditch matches, and he's been disappearing on the map as well. And Snape…Snape is Snape."

Spike, who had been listening intently, knew all of what they were saying. In the events that he could help Hermione – Or Pidge, as he liked to call her – with her essays and homework, they would sit on the rubber mats and he would tell her what he knew, and she would take notes while he talked, and then they'd talk some more before Buffy came in to train. It was at that time that Hermione was happy she was with Ron.

"I'm not disagree'n with you, mate." Spike said slowly. "But if Dumbledore trust's the slimy git, then – "

"But Dumbledore makes mistakes! He's said so!" Harry interrupted fiercely. Spike looked at him with a cocked brow, tutting quietly.

"Listen, Potter. If you really think Snape is guilty, prove it." At Harry's angered expression, Spike became graver. "I'm not saying this to put you off. You're strong, talented, and smart. You'll figure Snape far long before Dumbledore sees the truth."

Harry stared intently at the vampire for several moments before nodding slowly. Turning to Ron and Hermione, he gathered his things and stood.

"C'mon guys, lets go." Ron grabbed his things as well, but Hermione excused herself to the changing rooms first.

"Meet us in the Common Room, Herms!" Harry called, slipping his pack onto his shoulders.

Spike watched as the two boys turned from the room, and a second later Hermione emerged from the changing rooms, letting her hair down from her ponytail.

"Be careful around Snape, Pidge," Snape said quietly. "I know he's not especially a goodie. Heard him conversing with a Death Eater about Voldemort when I first got here. And we can't be sure what side of the court he's playing until he throws the ball."

Hermione nodded quietly before waving Spike goodbye as she left. Spike watched the empty doorway for several moments before grabbing his own bag and locking the classroom behind him.

"Hey." Hermione turned at the sound of the familiar feminine voice. Anya was standing behind her, arms crossed over the muggle clothes she had chosen over black robes.

"Yeah?" Hermione asked, a little uneasy around the 'reformed' vengeance demon. Anya sighed and uncrossed her arms.

"I'm sorry if things got a little...uneasy. I'm not usually like this. I just... But I'm going in to London this weekend. Dumbledore's orders and I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For what happened." Hermione nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, It's good."

"Okay then." Anya said, waving shortly before turning away.

Upon entering through the Portrait Hole, Spike was confronted by the spat of Buffy and Dawn. Angel was looming nearby. When the door closed behind him, the two sisters turned to him. Dawn glared at him, and Buffy looked slightly relieved.

"What are they doing here?" he asked, looking over to Angel, who looked no happier than he. Buffy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before gesturing the situation with flaying hands.

"I don't know! They just turned up. But someone had to let them in. The security around here is needle eye tight." Buffy said exasperatedly. Spike, then, rounded upon Angel.

"Why did you bring her here?" he said angrily. "Do you not understand how much danger we're in?" Angel's eyes turned hard at the accusations, and he jammed a finger at Spike.

"Hey, Back off, Spike!" He shouted. "I didn't bring her here for no reason. I figured she's better off here than at Wolfram and Hart. And Dumbledore asked me to come either way." Buffy looked to Angel, sidling towards Spike.

"Why does he want you?" she asked. Angel rolled his eyes shrugging.

"The Hell if I know. Said it was important, that he'd need me around when he wasn't." Buffy groaned, flopping down onto the couch, almost landing on Nibble, who squawked in annoyance.

"Oh," Dawn cooed, bending down next to the jumpy hippogriff. "She's so cute!"

"And a little bugger…" Spike mumbled, earning a defensive slap from Buffy. For a moment, they watched as Dawn played with the little bird-horse before Buffy turned to Angel.

"What'd Dumbledore say to Dawn being here?" Buffy asked quietly.

"That he'll gladly let her stay. She's welcome to attend classes with the others if it's what you need." Angel said. Buffy looked from one vampire to another.

"What I need is to actually talk to the man."

"Good, Good work, Harry M'Boy," Slughorn praised Harry on his veriterserum. He then turned to the rest of the class – who had all failed to complete the assignment – and said loudly, "Twenty-Five points to Gryffindor for Harry's outstanding potions skill!"

Hermione glared darkly at Harry, who shrugged, emptying his cauldron.

"Before long I'll be the one to report you, Harry," Hermione said in a low undertone. Harry's grin faltered, and he dropped his book into his bag. Ron, who'd come up behind Hermione, grabbed her around the waist, pressing his lips to her temple.

"Oi, Harry, there's a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow. Comin'?" he asked heartily. Harry thought for a moment, remembering what Hermione had said Spike had told her about Snape.

"Yeah, I think I will."

Saturday morning proved to be a fruitful lesson to the sixth years that attended Physical defense. It witnessed the arrival of two faces – one old, one new; Angel and Dawn. While the boys nodded at Dawn's appreciatively good looks, the thought that she was eighteen barely put a damper on their teenage hopes, while the girls giggled over Angel's darker looks.

Harry, for one, was besotted by the tall, dark haired girl that stood in stark contrast by her older sister. Her brown eyes watched with a slight smile as the boys tried impressing her with their blows to the defending dummies, while she herself fought hand to hand with her sister, who had several advantages.

Harry, who had been held in a headlock by Dean Thomas, watched as Dawn's hair swished around her face as she fought her sister. Nearby, a strengthened Hermione was cornering Lavender Brown, and Spike was laughing openly as his Sire missed his mark time after time again.

Too soon, class was over, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were straggling behind, Hermione wanting a word with Spike. Harry took the opportunity to step over to Dawn, who was giggling as she watched Spike and Angel fight verbally.

"Hi, Dawn, right?" Harry asked dropping his pack at his feet and leaning back onto the windowsill. Dawn looked to him, water bottle raised to her lips. She smiled, and Harry felt his heart jump a foot in his chest.

"Yeah. You must be Harry." When Harry's hand went to his forehead, she shook her head. "Oh, no, I've heard of you. You hang with the redhead and the bushy haired chick."

"Er, yeah. I do." He said, a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's cool. I mean, they look cool. But, don't y'all have something to do around here? Or do y'all hang here?" Yes! This was his chance.

"Yeah, actually. There's a trip into town today. Maybe you'd like to come?" he asked hopefully. Dawn nodded, smiling.

"I'd love to."

After passing past Filch and walking down the grassy lawn, Dawn eased her hand into Harry's, smiling at his surprised expression. A hand to her stomach, she laughed at the rumble that echoed from it.

"I'm feeling hungry. You?" she asked as they entered the small town. Harry could see a bubblegum haired woman slip away from the gates as they entered, and a tall man in a set of maroon robes walked a couple feet away, his eyes watching Harry. He saw the packed candy shop to his left and smiled to Dawn, glad for the bulge in his pocket that was his invisibility cloak.

"Sure. I've got something to show you…c'mon."

Dawn giggled as she looked down to see her feet were invisible. Harry smiled at her obvious amusment and grabbed her hand, guiding her through the crowd. She squealed once or twice, and the people who heard this looked around for the source, but the two were well hidden.

Outside, the fall season was turning to be quite nippy, and Harry wrinkled his nose at the burning the cold caused, nearly sniffing once or twice, but when the two entered he Hog's head, he was fine. Sitting at small round table, Harry could quite plainly see Snape in the corner with a tall Blonde woman with glossy red lips. He nearly laughed at the thought that she may be his girlfriend- or some equivalent.

Listening hard, Harry managed to pick up on a few words...

"...Stubbborn...won't tell me anything...oh, I'll get to him...No, Eileen, your help is not needed, I belive I am quite...Malfoy will suceed, he must...Or I will do it myself..."

Harry felt the sneeze coming on, and tried to stop it, or hoping Dawn would, but it came. With a heavy wheeze, he sneezed into his arm, and turned shortly to Dawn, horrified. Snape had ceased his conversation, and was looking frightfully around at the drunk bar patrons. No one else seemed disturbed by the mysterious sneeze, but Snape was wary. Without so much as a goodbye, he swept out of the filthy pub. Harry pulled Dawn along with him, and they squeezed through behind Snape.

Once Snape had disappeared from with eyesight, Dawn let out a fitful giggle, and Harry swept invisibilty cloak off of them. Dawn slumped back against the wall, laughing. Harry, however, found no part of their predicament funny, and he rounded on her.

"That wasn't funny!" he told her loudly. "We could've been caught!"

"Oh, whew, sorry," Dawn said breathlessly as she eased down a bit, clutching her stomach. "It was just so funny, with the sneeze -" Again, she erupted in giggles, and still, Harry was struck by her ignorance.

"Yeah, real funny." He said dryly as he sat next to her, but she was rubbing her arms.

"Hey it's cold out here." she said as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. "Let's get something to eat."

Harry and Dawn met up with Ron and Hermione, who were sitting with Ginny. The youngest of the Weasley's was crying into her butterbeer, mumbling about her and Dean. For once, Harry did not feel that jump of excitment at the thought of Ginny single. The feeling of Dawn's body leaning into him settled that want as they sat and ordered drinks from Madam Rosemerta; even when Ginny turned her large brown eyes to him.

Seeming to have given up, Ginny excused herself, running off to the bathrooms. Dawn watched sadly as the younger girl eased her way through everyone towards the bathrooms.

"Excuse me, I'm gonna go see if she's okay. You all stay here." With a worried expression, Dawn excused herself, and followed after the girl.

"Ginny?" Dawn called as she opened the door to the women's bathroom. She heard a small whimper, and saw Ginny pressed flush against a wall, the bar matron's wand pointed to her chest.

"Hey!" Dawn called, moving towards the woman in red sequin shoes. The woman turned to her and pointed the wand at her chest.

"_Imperio!_" she cried.Dawn felt a warm sensation creep through her, and a small voice in her head...

"_Go away, you've seen nothing!" _It urged, But Dawn was stronger. She lunged at the woman, ripping her wand away.

"Oh, no. And yes, I have seen something." she said as she knocked the woman unconscious against the bathrrom stall; a silver necklace wrapped in brown paper skidding across the ground under a stall. Careful of handling it, she heard Ginny's whimpering, she turned to her and smiled.

"You okay?" she asked, and Ginny nodded feverently.

"I-I think she was being controlled..." Ginny said quietly as Dawn pulled the Madam Rosmerta flat onto the floor and checked her pulse.

"Well she's fine now." Dawn said, standing up. "I'll stay here; you go get Harry."

"I-I don't know Albus...Last I remember is that I was going to go put in an order..and then I woke up on the floor in the bathrooms..." Madam Rosemerta was fitfully shaken before Albus, cup of tea in her hands as she explained to Albus.

The Headmaster wore a grave expression. Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Harry stood in the backround. They had been the ones to bring the spooked woman up to the school – Albus had arrived moments later, returning from one of his mysterious trips.

"It's quite alright, Madam." Dumbledore said soothingly, pouring her more tea. "In fact, I've ordered for an Auror to guard the bar, if it's alright with you?"

"Oh, yes, Dumbledore." she said graciously, standing up and pulling on her enormous fur coat. "Thank you ever so."

Buffy watched as her heels clicked faintly down the stairs before turning to Dumbledore, who was looking sadly at the silver necklace on the desk, still wrapped carefully in brown tissue.

"You're back." she said simply. He nodded, moving to pour more tea for them all.

"That I am, Miss Summer's, and rather tired, as it is.But if we must." He drew up a few chairs with a wave of his wand, and Buffy, Spike, and Dawn took a seat.

"You may leave now, Harry. But I will expect you at eight o'clock tomorrow, as is scheduled, right?"

"Yessir." Harry said, catching Dawn's eye briefly before turning to leave. She smiled, watching him leave.

When the door to his office shut soundly, Dumbledore turned to Buffy and Spike.

"I presume you wish to speak about William's soul?" He asked, arching his fingers before him. Buffy watched him indifferently before performing a sort of half-nod.

"Yeah. Among other things." Buffy said hesitantly.

"Such as?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forwards.

"Why you're always leaving the school?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Alas, that is a conversation for another time."

Buffy didn't argue, just nodded. For a moment the group sat in silence until a high wail rose up to the cracked window. Spike's eyes became wide and he stood and stumbled over chair legs to the windowsill.

"Oh, shit." he murmered. Buffy came to him, a hand on his arm.

"What is it?" she asked, unable to see what he saw for lack of enhanced vampire eyeballs.

Spike murmered under his breath, captivated with the twirling figure of white satin and black silk hair, and the crazed dancing of the figure it possesed.

"Dru."


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others

Chapter Five Hunting

The graceful figure with clicking heels clutched the shawl tightly around her as she walked the dingy sidewalks. The pitch-black sky had a sense of foreboding, and from the dingy alleys she heard the occasional dry sucking of vampire feeding, and the soft moans of their victims. Hungry homeless crouched in the shadows of the alleys, of the shadows thrown by dustbins and stairways. A clatter of bins startled her, but she kept going, rounding the last corner before she came to the large building.

Slipping quietly into a side door, she found herself faced with a long, clean hall. Gray doors were shut tight against intruders, unwelcome people. Steel plates with white numbers were nailed tight above each door. 312, 314, 316...The number continued around a hallway, finally stopping at a door with peeling paint and 'Stairwell' typed across it. Creaking it open on well used hinges, she clattered noisily down the stairs.

She was submerged at least three floors before coming into the dank basement. With clear remembrance, she bypassed through the winding halls, the only lighting coming from flickering yelow lights hanging every few yards.

Finally, her destination came into view along with the sound of snarls and heavy boots. A tall man with brown hair and stern brown eyes stopped her, and she smiled at the familiar face.

"Riley." she greeted, and he seemed taken aback.

"Anya?"

Dawn followed at a slower pace behind her sister and Spike as they abandoned Dumbledore in his office. The two before her took stairs five at a time torwards the entrance hall, where a jumbled group were crowding at the doors, gaurded by Filch and McGonagall.

"Students! Students, please stand back! Stand Back at once!" she called out shrilly. They students dismissed her words, looking back at the loud footfalls of approaching Slayer and Vampire, and making a part between their masses. Filch shoved open the doors in time for Buffy to swing out ahead of Spike.

And come to an abrupt halt before the dancing eyes of a swaying Drusilla.

"My William has come to greet me!" she laughed, a porcelain doll swinging from her hand. "But, oh, the pixies remind me- he smells like the Slayer, he does. Nasty Trollop. Makes my poor William do nasty things. Covers him in her scent, in her thoughts and feelings."

As Drusillas' words sank in, Dawn shoved her way past Spike and came face to face with Drusilla, her green eyes becoming wide, though not from fear. Drusilla turned from Buffy to Dawn and smiled, her hand tracing patterns in the sky before the girl.

"Oh, what a pretty package. So green and shiny. But she's no good, bad egg bad egg. Makes me sick it does, because she's been used, Oh, no good." she stopped and giggled. Buffy seemed immobile by Drusillas' almost friendly behaviour to Dawn, who wasstill as the vampire as Drusilla ran a long red finger down Dawn's cheek.

"Are you my Spike's?" She asked, pronouncing 'Spike', 'Spoike'. "Yes, yes you are then. And I'm your Grandmummy, and we'll all be happy, and Ms. Edith will get two cookies tonight. We'll all be gay and merry, happy and bright. We shall make a song." Drusilla turned to Spike, smiling. Spike stared at his Sire, a struck gaze overcoming him. "Do you remember our song, Spike? Oh we'd sing, wouldn't we? Look at the stars and dance our dance. Oh, how do I remember?"

"So, aren't you crazy?" Dawn asked bravely, feeling Buffy's hand curl around her shoulder. Drusilla let a high cackling laugh flow, sending goosebumps over her flesh.

"Oh, where is my daddy? I smell him, up somewhere, all broods and sighs. Oh, he remembers, doesn't he? He made me to see the stars, didn't he? To sing and Dance." she looked at Dawn. "My Daddy liked to dance."

Drusilla turned out to the grassy lawn and hitched her skirt high up to her thighs, showing the pale flesh to the bright windows above. She began to sway like this, and then to giggle and twirl.

"Oh, Come and Play! Come and Play, Daddy! We'll have such a grande time! Singing and Dancing underneath the clouds!

_The maiden lies fast_

_Twists a finger at me_

_To come to do her bidding_

_Or pay the price must I_

_She sings so graceful_

_Twirls so fast_

_And laughs with all her ease_

_Oh Maiden dripped in Blood, to sing!_

_Salty tang On my tounge_

_Such mystery it reveals_

_Oh kiss of death I own thee!_

_Kiss of red stained mouth!"_

Her hands fell from the arc they had made above her head, and for once Buffy realized it was only her and Dawn and Spike. The door to the castle had long since been shut. The other two, she realized were watching the spinning vampire with a mixed awe.

Drusilla bowed low, sprinting in bare feet, her dolls' head smacking relentlessly against her thigh as she spun faster and faster.

"Stop!" Buffy cried. Drusilla stopped and stared at Buffy before dropping to her hands and knees and sulking slowly torwards her.

"Oh, mummy left me. Turned to dust and left a fragile baby." she whimpered. "And poor Drusilla and Ms. Edith. Lonely, so lonely. Mean Wizard won't take us. He says awful things and his mind is so crowded...it's scary. He's fractured. His body and soul is melted and divided. He speaks mean things, he does. Makes me cry. Burned my arms and laughed. Such a cruel cruel boy he will be, returning to Hades. So I come to my William. I come to my Daddy.

Angelus!" She turned her head and cried out to the sky. "Daddy, come take your love in! Take me in, Daddy!" Then she turned to Buffy again, her eyes pleading. "I'll be a good pet. Won't spill the milk. And my baby will keep me happy. My green spark." her eyes drifted to Dawn, who frowned. "You'll be good to me, won't you mum?" she asked. Buffy looked to Spike, who was looking intently at Drusilla.

"You hungry, pet?" he asked, obviously hearing something in Drusillas' body she didn't. At this, Drusilla drew away and tucked her head in her knees.

"Oh, wicked Wizard was so cruel. Kept poor Drusilla in a cage and wipped her with words and thorns. No blood for the teacups. No blood and no tea. Ms. Edith was ever so dissapointed."

"Right, well, come up, then luv." Spike said gently, pulling Drusilla up. Drusilla turned to Buffy and presented an arm.

"Mum and baby must come too. We shall all make merry when Daddy comes along." Buffy stared at the presented arm, then at Drusilla, her childish smile bestowing a senstivity to Buffy she'd never seen before. When Buffy faltered, Dawn stepped forward and took her arm. Drusilla smiled pleasantly as Buffy moved to walk next to Spike.

"What are you so happy about?" she asked. Spike smiled and shrugged.

"Nothing pet, Nothing. Just glad to be surrounded by my girls."

There was such an odd feeling to be sitting in an armchair and watching Drusilla smile and laugh, cradling her doll and presenting it with a teacup. Spike sat beside her, holding her hand and watching as Dawn sat cross-legged beside his Sire and swirled the light brown mixture in the teacup with a finger.

"Funny how everythings just...turned upside down, huh?" She asked, resting a head on his shoulder. She heard him purr deep in his throat and smiled.

"Yeah, pet. Never thought we'd all be in the same room and not be trying to rip each others' throat out."

"Drusilla?" Angels' voice preceded the dull thumb of the door swinging shut. Drusilla looked up to take the dark vampire in, her lips spreading wide.

"Oh, splendid! Daddys' come home to William and Mummy, hasn't he? And found little Dru having tea with her grandbaby and Ms. Edith. Oh, shall Daddy join us for a cup?"

Angel stared as Dru looked hopefully at him.

"She came here when Voldemor turned her out." Dawn explained, biting a doughy cookie. Angel looked to Buffy, who shrugged.

"It was Dumbledore who allowed her to stay." she explained. Angel nodded and moved to Dru, who stood up and took his hands, twirling under them.

"Pretty Pretty. Your'e soul speaks such colors of pink and white, Red and Blue. Oh, like a rainbow! Daddy's a rainbow isn't he? Come back to make a family! Oh what fun shall we have? You and Mummy and William be grownup, and my green spark will play Grandbaby to her Grandmummy. Where's a kiss?" Drusilla asked Dawn, presenting a pale cheek. Dawn giggled and made a show of pecking the vampire's cool cheek.

"Another, Daddy?" she asked, turning back to Angel and presenting her other cheek.

"Dawn, time for bed." Buffy interjected standing up and pulling away from Spike.

"Oh, Me and Ms. Edith shall draw the covers, tucking away my green spark. Make you cozy and snug. Would you let Grandmummy do that, my green Spark?" Dawn giggled again, following Drusilla to her room.

"How could you let her stay here? What's to stop her from attacking the students? Did you even think?"

Buffy held a firm gaze, eyes narrowed.

"Dumbledore took care of it all when we brought her in. She'll be fine, and If you don't like it,this place is huge and you can go somewhere else for the night." She felt strange standing up for Drusilla in front of Angel, but she knew it was right.

Right?

"Is Daddy mad at his Princess?" came the drifty voice form Dawn's bedroom door. Angel looked up at the black haired woman in the white lacy nightgown and shook his head.

"No, Dru."

In the sleepy night, Buffy was overcome by restlessness, and slipped away from the cool embrace of Spike, slipping into her discarded clothes. She found her stake tucked between the matress and slipped outside.

In the cooridors, she flew by doors to empty classrooms with speed, her hair flying out behind her as she skipped over stairs, laughing once she was free of the castle, sprinting fast and hard over the swaying grass. She passed the lake, shimmering in the moonlight, heard the dull roar of some monster in the icy depths as she found her feet treading a hard trail towards the forest.

When the protruding limbs brushed her, she giggled, sending her Slayer senses to feel for whatever was out there. She felt tingles, felt the hissings and cackles. Felt tiny arms reach for her, miniscule claws and fangs.

There was an abrupt snarl that stopped her, and, panting, she tuned to see a vampire hovering on the outskirts of the of the Forbidden Forest, where a shimmering purple wall stopped him from continuing. Stepping closer she smiled, twiddling the stake in her fingers.

"Wanna fight?"


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Six Beginning

"We'd been tagging all sorts along the Californian coast when suddenly we couldn't find even a vamp. Figured they must've migrated somewhere, and then we get all these leads over up in London, England. Ordered to check it out, found out we could be baggin' five werewolves a full moon, when it came." Riley explained as they passed rows of steel cages were men were laying on hard cots.

"Must keep you busy," Anya said, her eyes drifting to stack of wands. "You've been confiscating wands?"

"So that's what they are? Some black robed humans were attacking us with them a few nights ago. Five down when we finally got smart and started retaliating.We've got them all in a detention center nearby." Anya looked at the stacks, then to Riley.

"I've orders from Dumbeldore to ask you about recruiting. He's asked me to try and persuade who I can; werewolves, demons; vampires, even. I am back in the Vengeance fold, y'know. Even after our spat last summer, D'Hoffryn took me up and in."

Riley nodded, his eyes drifting to the pink gash just visible on her right shoulder.

"Oh, that's how I died." Anya told Riley. "Straight through the bone. Hurt a lot. So, can I see the humans, talk to them?"

Riley looked to his commanding officer, who'd been listening in, and nodded. "Come this way."

Buffy brushed the dust from her pants and sighed. It'd been to easy a kill, and she guess the vamp had been newly risen, or just too weak to take on the revving Slayer.

"Out for a walk, luv?" she heard Spike's voice from behind, and turned to smile. There he stood, hands in duster, cigarette dying red perched between his lips.

"I need a kill. Bad."

"Fortunatly, I smell blood. Vamps near by." He threw down his cigarette, crunching it between his heel.

"Human blood?" She asked, turning to face the forest. Spike wrinkled his nose, inhaling deeply.

"Some. Half-breed of some kind." He told her after a moment. Tightening her grip on her stake, she looked up at the castle, the glowing lights that filled some of the windows.

"You don't think Dru had anything to do with it, so you?" she asked, concerned, but Spike shook his head. "Okay, then. Where we headed?"

Spike cocked his head to the side and sniffed heavily again. Then he turned to the small hut a few hundred yards away. His blue eyes hardened into black, and he made for the hut.

"There!"

"Oh my God..." Buffy said quietly as they came upon the hut. The large bloodhound Fang was huddled in a corner, whimpering, his shoulder and hind torn open. The small hut was thrown about in such a mess of dissaray; tankards rolled about the floor, milk and biscuits were thrown and broken on the floor, and chairs were broken to splinters around the cramped floor.

Spike moved ahead of Buffy to the Giant's side and checked for a pulse before assesing his wounds.

"He's alive." He told Buffy. "But just barely." There was no answer from the Slayer, and when he turned to her, he caught sight of her, hand over mouth, looking at the wall where pictures and desk had been thrown across the room. When he looked up to see the words, his heart clenched.

"Blood of Innocents, Spread for our Master." He read before she lurched over the table and vomited.

"Hagrid!" The three teens called at once as the approached the groundskeeper spread over two conjoined cots. He opened his bleary eyes and his beard twitched a bit. Hermione was looking at the gauze on his neck and the burns on his face with shock and revulsion. Ron was looking at his feet, mumbling something, and Harry was standing off, watching him carefully.

"Oh, this is just awful!" Hermione said after a while. "It's dreadful, a-and sadistic a-a-and...oh, Hagrid, it's just so _hateful._" She was choking out mangled sobs now, wiping at her eyes with he sleeve.

"Did you see who attacked you?" Harry asked as Hermione buried her face in Rons' shoulder. Hagrid peered at himhazily from his crusted and swollen eyes. His face was pale as the bedsheets, his hair scraggly.

"Vampire." He grunted. "A coupla them. Mean and nasty as hell. Took me up fer a fight after they tricked me into invit'n them in."

"How?" Harry asked quietly, low enough so that Madam Pomfrey in the corner couldn't overhear. Hermione, wiping her red eyes, leaned in, grasping Hagrids' large hand as she trembled.

"Masquerading as...as Hogwarts' folk...Polyjuice, or a glamour..." he sighed heavily, before waving them away. "Git to, then,classes, eh? Don't want you in trouble on my account." Hermione nodded hurriedly as she shouldered her pack, face clear, though sullen.

"Yes, we have an exam in Potions today." she said before giving Harry a triumphant smile. "Closed book."

As Harry sagged and tried to remeber what complex potion Slughorn had said he would test them for, Ron slapped Hagrid softly on the shoulder, coming in close like a captain reassuiring a teammember.

"S'okay Hagrid. No point in beatin' yourself up about what happeed. Let bygoners be...err.. bygoners."

"Bygones, Ron. It's Bygones." Hermione corrected before landing a swepful kiss to Hagrids' hairy cheek. "Bye Hagrid. Take care."

"Eh...tell that Spike bloke thanks fer me, wouldya?" Hagrid called as the doors swung shut between the trio.

"What'd he do?" Ron asked Hermione with an air of distaste while Hermione shrugged in like confusion.

Anya lay back in the recliner. Her room was above the Leaky Cauldron, half a block from the Initiatives headquarters. Her head hurt from the headache-inducing spats she'd had with the Death Eaters now held in a No-Apparation enviroment. They'd been stripped of weapons, sharp and blunt items, and the ability to Apparate.

But the yelled and cursed loud enough. Long enough.

Taking the blue Tylenol, she swallowed it down with some water and tried to clear her head, but the conversation held so hard and cold in her head...

...She remembered how cold the tile and walls had been, stepping into the steel room, bolted shut. Five hard cots were bolted into the ground with cotton-stuffed mattresses. The springbox had been removed, and thin sheet and a cotton pillow lay on each bed. She shivered when she saw the manacles that were attached to each foot. In her eyes, the jingled motionlessly as she faced the five sunken faces.

"Demon!" hissed a sallow faced woman with thick blond tresses and heavy lashes. "Anyanka, you traitor."

"Bellatrix, I would advise you to be quiet about such things as you don't know of." Anya said with a hidden power to her words. "The side I played before does not suit me now."

"Oh, think you we don't know? Acrabus told us. "You fell for a muggle. And let's face it _Anyanka_, when you fall, you fall far and hard."

"Shut up Lestrange!" Anya warned, her eyes flashing dangerously before turning her eyes to the only other woman, who smiled wide when Anya acknowledged her.

"Narcissa. Do tell, how has Voldemort corrupted your life this time? Has he killed your family again? Your child again?" Narcissa's eyes became wide at this and she lunged at Anyas' throat, and it was then she was glad for one of the Commando's taser.

"Back, Narcissa." she said, before her eyes became softer. "Alexandria was such a pretty girl. How old was she? Ten, eleven? I forget, you see. I've carried on a life so long..." But Narcissa was dreamy eyed, cradling something invisible to her chest.

"Oh, my little Alex..." she sighed, before her expression became harsher and she threw down her arms. "But she was a trash talking brat. Always going off on how we would all pay for our sins. I still wonder from where the nonsense came. She'd always follow me around the house at times when Lucius and I returned from meetings, shouting at how wicked we were...It was almost a releif that Voldemort offed her. Quick and quiet. She needn't feel a thing, he'd say when he poisened her."

"You let him?" Anya asked in disbeleif."How could you let some man walk into your life and totally destroy it? Destroy a part of you when you have your own rights to it! Men have no right to take a woman apart like that! None! How could you let him do that, Narcissa? Little Alex?"

"It was his daughter..." Spoke a scraggly man from the corner cot. His black robes were clean and pressed, but his hair was limp and greasy, his eyes black, but red. "Voldemort...he is...supreme. He has what he wants, takes what he wants." The man was slowly approaching her, his crazed eyes looking her up and down. "And he doesn't feel..." he whispered. "He's so sick, he's twisted, I'll admit, but he is the Dark Lord. He has me, he owns us all." He spread his arms wide and cackled. "He owns us all, and death will rain down on us like acid, it will burn and sting your lashes so that they singe to a crisp."

"Acrabus..." warned another man, well built with blonde hair and deep green eyes. "Sit down before your mind corrupts us all with such talk."

"You seem more sane than the rest." Anya said, assesing the man. "But then again..."

"The name is Thomson. And the other fool in the corner is Marcus. You'd do well to note that the rest are none too right in the head. If you want to talk to anyone, I'm to tell you to bugger off."

"Okay Thomson..." Anya said before quirking a finger to the guard behind her. At the signal, the man dove in with the taser. The rest of the Death Eaters screeched as Thompson fell to the floor. As two other men hauled the limp body to onto a gurney, Anya retrieved the silver flask of Veritaserum.

"Where is Lord Voldemort?" Anya said, the chained man across from her staring with blank eyes.

"We are his followers. We are not told, only summoned." He said in a flat tone.

"What are his plans?" She asked.

"We are his followers. He reveals them only when he is ready to put the plan into action."

Anya sighed in exasperation. Only a few minutes ago had Dumbeldore contacted her with new questions, and she consulted the list before her.

"Has Voldemort had anything to do with the Vampire Drusilla?"

"No. He turned the vampire away."

"Why? Why wouldn't he want a master vampire like Drusilla?" She was genuinly confused to this, and kept her eyes to the still-blank expression of the man.

"He sensed and knows of the strong connection she has with the Vampire Spike and his Slayer consort. This is what he told us, because he expressed thought of an underlying trust."

"So why not dust her? Poof? No underlying trust problems then, right? Right?"

At this, Thompson grinned wickedly.

"He has plans." He said quietly. "The Dark Lord will not tell me, but he has plans."

"Has he told anyone? Any of the Death Eaters locked up here?"

"No. He has only one trusted confidante. But he is not here."

"Is he at Hogwarts? Is he anyone the Dumbeldore knows?"

"Yes."

"Who is it?" Anya was exciteded, eyes wide, hands fgipping the side of her seat as the tricked Death Eaters mouth opened.

But then He blinked. He blinked once, then twice, and by then he had begun to come to his senses, breathing tightly, eyes wide, mouth agape. He was blinking rapidly, and seemed to be choking on his words.

"Damn!" Anya cursed. She had used all of her small vial on the man. Oh well. She'd just get some more.

"I-I-I-" The Death Eater stuttered before he screamed in agony and clutched at his chest. "No! No, but I didn't mean it! No!" He wailed as he convulsed in the chair, and Anya was rigid now, staring as Thompson tossed and turned on the chair until he suddenly went limp. His mouth hung open, his arms clutched rigidly to his throat. His eyes were full of terror, and the scream hung empty on his lips.

"Oh my God..." Anya said softly, standing up queasily. "Oh, Gosh..."

One of the commandos stepped forward and checked the pulse of the limp man.

"He's dead." He said loudly. Another man came and help to drag him back onto the gurney to be wheeled away.

"Can I take you home?" Asked a soft voice behind her. Anya turned, patting her brown hair softly and shaking her head.

"No, No. I-I'll be okay..Really." she was shaken. How long had it been since she'd witnessed a death like that? That, that was pure vengeance. A long time ago, that's what she'd wished she could have done to Xander..but...

What hatred and malice...That had been pure, unadultered evil.

Vengeance.

Drusilla watched the Slayer throught the crack of her door as she dressed, and hummed to herself, watching with calculated eyes as Spike caught her up in his arms and kissed her, pushing her flush against the dresser. She watched the blonde wrap her arms around her Vampire consort, her arms runnign down smooth skin and she remebered a time when she could lay on the grass, lips stained in blood on a grassy hill and feel Williams head between her skirts.

What a long time ago...She thought. When Miss Edith was young and William and she could kill without remorse. Revel in blood, in cherry blooded lips.

She hummed softer, a small tune William knew quiet well. She could tell he heard, because the Slayer untangled herself and moved aways. She head the feral growl in her Childes throat and hummed a little louder.

"Hmm Hmmm mmm Mmmm mm mm mmmm, Hmm mmm mm mmm mm mmmmm" And then she broke into song, soft under her breath, "I heard a young maiden singing in the valley below." But then she stopped and turn to see the mixed emotions playing across Williams' face and stood up, twirling in small circles as she hummed and sang. "Oh don't decieve me, oh never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?" She ended the song, and stopped, her slip soft and falling around her knees. She watched him with a dreamy smile as he stepped torwards the door, and as he shut it, she turned and walked away.

Malfoy sat in the plush chair, eyes closed as he thought carefully. When he opened his eyes again, a raven haired woman was standing before him. His eyes bugged out at her Raven black hair and lucid smile. The white slip of a dress she word barely covered her, and where her black hair fell, her breasts would have been otherwise visible.

"Wh-who are you?" He spluttered, his eyes wider than plates now.

"No worries, sweet Draco." she cooed, grinning as her eyes flashed yellow. "Sweet Drusilla's come to help."

A/N: I know I may not have said so earlier, but your reviews make me the happiest person alive. And you must realize that I could get no where without your helpful...help and I want you always and forever to point out my every slip and misspelling so I can go back and finish it. Please, If you read this, Review! It always makes an Author happy to hear - or read- it.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N:Sorry it took so long, but I've been busy with all manners of things. I promise an update much sooner than this one was. Keep the reviews fresh, all my authory love, Chelsea.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Seven The Soul Problem

"Missing soul, eh?" Moody grunted. Even though Dumbledore had said the grungy man was trustworthy, Buffy felt all but secure in his presence. Moody's wooden leg smacked loudly on the floor as he moved aroud Spike, assessing him with his large blue eye that swiveled dizzily in its socket.

Spike had an unlit cigarette between his lips, and Buffy could tell he desperately wanted to light it, but he refrained, watching Moody as he sank into the plush armchair.

They were grouped; Spike, Buffy, Moody and Tonks, at the cozy bar in Hogsmead. Moody was occasionally sipping from his flask, Buffy and Tonks both had butterbeers - warm and frothy, while Spike had a murky brown liquid in his glass that he sipped from thoughtfully once in a while.

Moody stopped, facing Spike dead on, his blue eye riveting Spike to his chair as it quivered, looking him up and down, inside and out.

"Huh." Moody grunted. Buffy became uneasy, feeling that strange lurking of something gone wrong in Moodys' voice.

"What is it?" She ventured, seeing Spikes' lips whiten as he pinched the cigarette between his lips.

"He's fractured," Moody said.

Drusilla sat cross-legged at the foot of the large pillowy bed, eyes unfocused and fingers playing in her hair. Before her, Draco was out cold, eyes closed in slumber, his slicked hair loose in curls and his normally pale face pink. Drusilla stood up off the bed and walked silently past the bed, disregarding her crumpled slip and slipping a finger over the soft curves of Dracos' face.

"Sweet Draco," she cooed. "Mummy will make it all all right."

Anya lay on the soft bed, her eyes closed in more than in exhaustion, vivid images flashing behimd her eyes.

Death. Destruction...What had she done, what had she really accomplished in so many years of existence? To provide scorn women with a change at revenge? Vengeance, she thought, had been her strength. Love...well, what did that feel like? Who would know now?

A putrid smell of sulfer and brimstone began filling the room, and Anya sat up, coughing, her eyes teary.

"Anyanka?" D'Hoffryns' voice boomed as he appeared in his grand purple robes, his twisted horns sticking out sadly. He choked and crumpled to the floor. Anya rushed to his side, still taken slightly surprised.

"D'Hoffryn? What happened? What's wrong?" she turned his to his back and gasped.

A small iron dagger was protruding from his skull, and his pendant, she discovered as she searched his neckline, was gone.

D'Hoffryn was dead.

"Fractured?" Buffy asked, confused. "What do you mean, 'Fractured'?

"It means," Moody said between swigs from his flask. "That when the Amulet moved him to safety, It did it at the cost of a piece of his soul."

Oz held the small silver mirror close to his chest, wary of the rising moon as he tumbled into the motel. Tucking the mirror away between the mattresses, he shrugs off his clothes, examining the crisscrossing of bracelets on his arms. They're silver and twine, ribbon and bronze and they dig into his skin. Running hands down his torso, he feels the tightly wraped markings the strings and twine and silver have made, feeling his skin bubble as it strains to take form.

Mental capacity is too weak in these times, and he whimpers at the searing pain he endures.

But no wolfish howl peirces the night, and he cumples to the sheets, clawing at his skin as the night drifts by.

In the morning he awakens, half-conscious at the knocking on his door.

He drags himself to the door, and opening it, h's confronted with a stranger's face.

Lupin crosses his legs over again, smiling pleasantly and a little into the distant.

"Yes, yes, there's many forms of sustaining the beast, many species of the beast, and many characteristics of the beast. But they all lead to control, you'd say, I suppose."

"Uh, yeah." Oz holds the tea cup, looking down into the murky brown and concentrating hard on not throwing up. His skin is pinched, his breaths hallow gasps, but he controls his pain, stills his quivering.

"Well then, I have a propasition for you." Lupin said, a twinkle in his eyes. Oz looked up at him warily, remembering his first objective that was shoved between mattresses.

"What?"

"Ever heard," Lupin said coyly. "Of a place called Hogwarts?"

Buffy slipped out of the silk robe she'd been wearing after her bath and padded into the bedroom to the hunched form of Spike. Sinking into the mattress next to him with a sigh, she took his hands, kissing the remnants of hot tears away.

"Spike, don't" she pleaded softly.

He looked up with tear stained eyes and sniffed in a way he'd deny soon enough.

"It's gone Buffy." He said softly. "I'll never get it back, the spark...it's gone...It's lost."

"I'm not real anymore."

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Whispered Dawn as she examined the swiped map under the safety of her covers. Tiny spider-web lines crissed and crossed over the parchment, making up the map that was creased from over-use.

Her eyes grazed it, examining the faint prints of feet, and the scribbled names. In the dark, her eyes adjusted slowly, but she knew what she was looking for, and found it quickly.

It was there, in the dungeons.

Three dots, meeting in a tucked away room.

Three dots, late at night, when all should be tucked away in their dormitories.

Snape. Drusilla. And Malfoy.

A/N: As it's a day before 9/11, let me pay my respects to the lost loved ones from the terrorist attacks and their families


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Eight Mischief Managed

Voldemort ran a spindly hand over the top of his smooth head and cackled wildly at the images swirling in the cauldron. The pendant the vampiress wore had penetrated the complex web of protection spells Dumbeldore had enforced onto the gaurded fortress. He would win, for certain. He had control of a powerful and destructive force, planted right under the old man.

Dumbledore was too trusting.

For sure, his many resources would find out about Snape's loyalty, and it was certain Draco wouldn't finish his task without the help of a wiser one than Snape. All the pieces were in place. One just needed to say 'Check'.

Oz brushed a hand over the polished silver hand mirror. Turning it over, he re-examined the crisscrossing work of letters in the handle. It had been hard to read at first, under a few unpolished layers of filth, but when he had found it out, he'd known that the etching had only been placed there recently.

The Latin words proved it.

"Buffy!" The word rose louder and higher and longer each passing second it took for her sister to get into her room. When the blonde finally arrived to see her sister clutching the parchment, and her green eyes wide, she snatched it from her. Dawn sidled next to her, and pointed a chipped pink nail at the bottom left corner of the parchment.

Buffy breathed a soft "Oh," before turning to the open door.

"Spike!"

Spike stood stock still, listening to the airy humming that drew closer and closer. When the door seemed to push open on its own, he darted from behind it and wrapped his arms around the vampire, who squealed and kicked her legs, her face immdeiatly slipping into game face as she struggled against the hold. Her fangs sank into his arm, and he cursed, dropping her heavily. She scrambled up just as Buffy pounced and held her down. Dawn arrived shortly after with manacles and clasped them around the flailing hands of Drusilla.

"Oh, poor mummy, chained up like this!" she wailed as Spike dragged her onto the couch. She rested her hands above her head. "But mummy plays good games like this, if her little William will let her loose. She wiggled her body at him, hopeful yellow eyes shunned by icy blue ones.

"You played us, Dru." He said coldly.

"Oh, Miss Edith will be so sad. Mummy cannot give her her cookies for keeping a secret. Shh, shh. Don't tell, don't tell."

"You're working for Voldemort." Buffy said, arms crossed. "You lied to us."

"But my Sweet Tom will present me with your heads. On a silver platter, he promised, and we shall all make merry in the blood of your children." She finished with a giggle and Buffy stepped fowards and slammed her fist into her face. There was an audible crack, and Drusilla was left unconscious on the couch.

Fragment of the fallen one, key to the destruction of another, and the death of a worm in the kings court.

The words were loosly translated from his days with a Warlock in Turkey, but Oz knew what it meant. Having been updated on the situation of the risen evil that was Lord Voldemort from recent contact with Giles, Oz had aquired the mirror by almost impossible means, and now it sat wrapped in brown paper baggage, headed with him on a trip that would lead him to two new adventures. He was almost giddy - he was sure his lip had twitched upwards a while ago when he thought of seeing his old friend again.

Lupin had left him at the train station with specific directions on boarding the train. It was akward at first, leaning into a wall, expecting to go through and only feeling the hardness before swoosh and he was faced by a scarlet steam engine billowing smoke. Only a few stately men were milling around, and a few hefty packages of supplies that were to be shipped to the school were on the ground, being loaded via swooshing wands that levitated them to fit nicely in storage areas.

Boarding the train, Oz passed through compartments that either had a funky smell, too light, too dark, or with the very rare passenger going into Hogsmeade or visiting Dumbledore, until he found one nearer to the back of the bus than the others. Stuffing his bag up in the compartment, he slumped into the seat. For the longest time, he simply stared at the twine and strings of metal that dug into his flesh. Soon, a jerking noise caught his attention, and to his contempt he unlocked the compartment door to be faced by a smiling brunette.

"Fancy catching you here, wolf-boy." Faith smiled plump cherry lips and mussed up brown locks at him. He smirked quietly and open the door wider to accomadate the newest passsenger.

"Same to you Faith."

Harry yawned heavily and looked down at the book in his lap. Something about history on pure blood families. In his spare time, he'd become obsessed with tracing his heritage and that of Voldemort and Sirius. He often saw the same surname in many a family tree that filed ten, twenty pages long sometimes. He was flipping through Amstdale when he flipped a few pages forward and slammed his hand down at the sighty of a familiar name. Black. He taced downwards a few pages and found Sirius's name and birthdate, and then flipped his eyes upwards, scanning for familiar surnames until he chanced upon a familiar first name...William...William Black...When had he heard that name?

History of Magic...Hermione raised her hand, and the wizened proffesor looked up through bushy eyebrows.

William Black. Lived sometime in the 1800's. A poet, they called him William the Bloody for the blood awful poetry he wrote. He was turned at the age 28 and became a part of the Scourge of Europe, who favored the blood of Witches and Wizards while in England.

Of course. Sad, partly, that that bit of information should be stored back there, but he understood it now. William Black had a brother- younger- who was only thriteen when William was turned. His name was Johnathon. William..he was a squib, then, wasn't he? And his brother started a line greater than many others, with over seven sons and daughters...only three survived to have children of their own. Closing his eyes, he shut the book and breathed heavily. Opening it again, he stared at the small lettering. William Black. And further down, another familiar name. Sirius Black.

The train rocked back and forth. Outside the compartment, the lights had long been turned on, and the flashed at the outside darkness eerily. Oz sat, looking out the window, ears perked to Faiths' words.

"Yeah. The G-man told me about the mirror. Said he gave it to someone to bring to Buffy, didn't say who, but thought it best I offer my protective skills."

"Oh, really. How goes the Slaying anyways? Heard there were a bunch of Slayers running around."

"Yeah. It was all red," Faith said, smiling as she remembered. "She's wicked awesome at the whole magic and shit." She smiled kindly at Oz. "You'd be proud of her. Oz smiled at this. He turned warm eyes to Faith.

"I know I would."

Suddenly, the train began to screech slowly to a halt. Oz's brow furrowed."We can't be there yet."

Following his words, the train lights flickered out, and a minute later, a shrill shriek was raised from the front of the train. Faith swore under her breath, looking out at the aisle with dread in her eyes. "I think we've got company."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Nine Elapse

When Oz opened his eyes, two things abruptly attacked his senses; the first thing he felt was the line of pain that coursed through his entire body. It started with his head; a blooming pain that felt like ice down his back and through his limbs, leaving him numb and shivering. The second thing he felt was death.

Living in the mountains with an old werewolf, he learned things.

How to control the beast.

How to feel the presence of others like him.

And, lastly, the old werewolf taught him to see and feel and smell that rotting presence of discord and discomfort.

A groan from the corner swiveled his eyes to the slumped form of a disgruntled Slayer. She wriggled awake on the stone floor, her shoulders rolling as she sat up and wiped her eyes.

"Hey." she said, looking around at their prison. Oz nodded in acknowledgment in that muted way of his, his eyes following the same tract as hers as the roamed the small space they were confined to.

"What happened?" she asked, blinking in the darkness as she stood up and brushed off her dirt ridden pants.

Before Oz could answer with the obvious shrug, heavy footfalls made their presence known, and Oz shivered at the look of death in the mans' red eyes as he presented himself at the vertical bars of their keep.

"I happened."

Afterglow. There'd been little time to enjoy the soothing pleasure of lying naked in a bed of sheets; her leg hooked across his, her pink fingertips blindly tracing circles over a sore nipple.

Afterglow pleasurlies suffused her as she felt the rays of the sun dance lightly over her skin, and she sighed.

This was how it was supposed to be. She looked up, her chin bouncing on his chest. She smiled and waited for that answering smile. It came, along with a soft hand that smoothed her mussed bed-hair.

"This is how it's supposed to be," she said quietly.

Silently, he agreed.

Breakfast was never a formal affair, with different class schedules and all, but as Buffy sat at the head table she could feel how infinitely different the atmosphere was. Whispered conversations were coming from every corner of the room. She could only catch snitches of conversation, and nothing was coherent enough to fully decipher. 

Looking down the Gryffindor table, she saw Dawns' head shoved between Harry Potter and Hermione Grangers'.

"What's up?" Dawn asked, plopping between Harry and Hermione. Ron hadn't arrived as of yet. Stomach flu, Hermione had murmured as she scanned the Daily Prophet. "Hogwarts Bound Train Overcome by Dementors" Dawn made a hiccup-gasp, clamping a hand over her mouth.

"Was anyone hurt?" She asked through the fingers covering her mouth. Harry quickly scanned the article. Dawn felt a gush of relief when he began to shake his head- but he stopped.

"No. Two passengers were taken. Muggles who were arriving via train to confer with Dumbeldore. He showed Dawn the muggle-pictures of them. Dawn gasped.

"I KNOW them!" she squealed.

Dumbeldore flicked his wand at the bookshelf, and a single velvet bound book flew to him and landed open on his desk. Another slight flick and the pages flipped and flipped and stopped.

"My brother." He said.

Dumbeldore smiled sadly.

"I'm afraid your great neice has been into some trouble lately."

"I'm 'fraid so myself."

"Shall we have Anya?..."

"Yeah. Let demon-girl figure her out."

"You know of course that this spell is very complex."

"Yes." 

"Well then, your hand?"

"...No. My neck."

"Bend over then."

_Growl_ "Bugger that stings."

"Years of inflicting it and yet you have only known the touch once? A shame that we do not know well what we do."

"Yes...well. No more. I'm Slayer-whipped."

"Yes, perhaps so."

Buffy encircled Spike within her arms.

"Let's go out tonight." She whispers, drunkenly swaying in his arms.

"I believe you've beat me there, luv." He says, chuckling.

"No." Buffy says with her wicked little smile. "I want to hunt."

_Run run run._

A chant. Ruthless as it tries to outrun her.

_Run run._

Black sheep, white horses.

Images of paintings half remembered. A thrill. A race.

Times gone by as the wind caresses her face.

Vines whip by as she pounds dirt beneath her feet. Tiny cuts to heal by morning, and still her feet race.

_Run run._

The beast is behind her, before her, beside her.

It laughs. It speeds up, falters. It catches the hem of her sleeve in dancing fingers.

_Dance Dance._

Proverbial song...sunburnt mirth.

Laughter.

He catches her up in a kiss. She reacts.

Pink nails in soft blonde hair.

Blue eyes, green eyes meeting in that final kiss.

Lips and lips. Sighs and groans and moans and pleasurable rolling of the shoulders.

Lick and preen. Love is a Cat with sinewy muscles.

She laughs one last time and spins from his grasp. 

His fingers catch her hem.

And she's gone as the vines whip her face.

_Run Run Run._

An endless chant

Anya sighs as she reads the parchment curled around the vial. She stands and grabs her coat, stooping to fill her bags with an assortment of ingredients before she steps from her room.

Again she traipses to the underground demon hold. Again Riley greets her. She gives him a flirtatious smile as they walk.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and Xander," he says, and she believes the sincerity.

"Thanks." she says, smiling. "Sometimes I think I miss him..but..."

"How's Buffy?" Riley asks softly, his brown hair falling in his eyes like the frat boy he was so long ago. Now she saw him as a man.

"Moved on. Not married, but in love."

"With Spike?" He said with a dead kind of resentment.

"Yeah. Forgive and forget as much as you can, but when they break your heart demand monetary compensation." Riley laughed a little as they continued to the cell holding her object of interest.

_Narcissa._

Anya smiles wistfully as she sits before her.

"You remember your cousin Sirius, don't you?"


	10. Chapter 10

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Ten Possesion

Narcissa glared through heavy lashes at Anya before righting herself on her chair and sniffing. Running a smooth finger over the desk she was seated at, she clasped her hands before her and smiled.

"He was a rat. Filthy. A muggle-lover for sure, just like dear old Dumbeldore and that dead bastard James. He deserved to die." She sat back and crossed her legs, as if that were her complete statement. Anya sighed heavily and leaned forward. She saw, in the corner of her eye, the door crack open, and Riley move to answer it, but continued.

"What, may I ask, spell did you use to kill your cousin?" Anya watched expectantly as Narcissa smiled.

"The Killing Curse of course." She said with a wicked smile. Anya frowned and leafed through the heavy folder before her.

"It says here his body was never recovered, so I suppose…"

"Why Anyanka?" Narcissa interrupted. "Why do you question this? It's a war that is taking place. Here, though, here you choose for the other team. Do you know not what side I was loyal to? Wasn't it the same side you, too, were loyal to?"

"Was, Narcissa. There - past tense. I am not foolish enough to make the same mistake twice, and you would do well to follow that advice." Narcissa's lips were wrung into an awful grin.

"No? So I am mistaken when I believe that you are falling so far for soldier boy over there?"

Anya frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. She knew Riley wasn't in the room. He couldn't hear, but, the door thumped loudly as he reentered. He gave Anya a helpful smile, and Anya smiled.

"It's not the same," she said to Narcissa.

Oz flinched at the steeliness of the man's voice. He heard the nearly silent footfall of Faith as she took a step backwards.

"I believe you have something of mine?" Voldemort- Oz had heard much of him- asked, smiling as he opened a pale, spidery hand expectantly.

Oz shrugged, and Voldemort's smug expression faltered. His eyes flickered to the shadowy corner of the room, and when Oz strained, he heard the soft hiss of a snake.

"Are you sure you do not know where the, where the i mirror /i is then? I'm sure I can...smell it on you. Silver has such a scent, you know."

"Sadly, I don't." Yet he could feel the silver press through the light cloth it was wrapped in and press against his thigh. He shivered, feeling it so close.

Then, and now, Voldemort began to pace softly before them, pale hands clasped in front of him before he turned back to them.

"You, I know, are a Werewolf. Why should you bother to carry a disease in your pocket, for surely, that's what it is. A deadly disease, really. And you..." he looked to Faith, who regarded him in a heavy stance, forward and defensive. "You are a Slayer. Not too spotless of record, for sure, but...you have a power, a glow."

"Not to be messed with, Voldie." She said, though Oz could hear the shakiness in her voice. Voldemort, too, could hear it, and he grinned.

"You'll not leave this place alive, you know. I doubt your... i friends /i will be much help this time. So stay hear...better you hold the mirror than I...perhaps the silver will kill you before I find the time to do it myself."

He walked away, and as he did so he made a slight hiss with his breath, and Oz winced as a gaint snake followed from the shadows at his heel.

"My God," Faith said with a wide grin. "It's like a huge puppy dog."

Oz looked at her, eyebrow arched amusedly. "Do you like silver?"

Buffy looked up abruptly as her sister slammed the paper on the staff table, her hands shaking. Hermione and Harry were trailing behind her, looking slightly confused and slightly shocked.

Buffy, too looked down to the black and white pictures her sister was pointing too and gasped. At that moment, Dumbledore chose to enter for breakfast, but Buffy caught his elbow with Slayer speed before he sat down. It did not bother her that half the hall and a handful of teachers were looking on at her furious expressions, or that Dumbledore only smiled down sadly at her; she shoved the paper into his face and i growled /i .

"Fix. It."

"Mr. Potter, Fifteen points from Gryffindor for being late. And another five for Miss Granger and Miss Summers.

The trio- missing the redhaired Weasley from whom they had just come from, glared up at the DADA teacher. Dawn slammed her books onto their table and sniffed as she plopped into her chair.

Snape smiled wickedly.

"Another five for disruptive behaviour, Miss Summers."

Hermione elbowed her, and her eyes bugged with a muffled 'oomph' and she looked darkly at Harry, who smiled weakly. Once they were seated, Snape took for the front of the room with a last glance at them.

"Today, class, we will be practicing..." Dawn tuned the proffesor out and looked at Harry. He was doodling on the edge of his parchment, and when she looked over for a view, he closed his book on it, smiling sheepishly.

Bored, she turned her mind over to the conversation she'd had with her sister earlier...

i "Dawnie, don't worry about it, it'll be fine."

"Is he gonna fix it? Buffy, it's Faith we're talking about. It's Oz."

Buffy knew how saddened Dawn was- she knew how she'd grown to respect the brunette Slayer and adore the Werewolf, and she, too was scared.

But emotions were not important right now.

"We can't let our personal issues interfere this time, Dawnie. We'll get them, they'll be safe, but we can't run in and save the day right at this moment. They'll have our heads." She lowered her tone and tucked a long brown strand behind her sisters' ear "We gotta be sensible". /i 

Sensible...yeah, right.

Buffy clutched a handful of hair in her hands and buried her head in her knees. She wouldn't let the tears come. Not this time. Faith...and Oz. Wow, when had she seen Oz last? It'd been a few years...he must've changed a deal. And she was scared for him. A part of her wanted to scream and cry and call Willow. Willow should know, but it was for the same reason that Buffy didn't tell her. She would be scared. She would act rashly. She still had feelings for the guitarist Werewolf, God knows, and it wouldn't do well for her to know what had happened.

She felt the matress depress behind her, and cool hands embraced from behind, pulling her back into him. Magic fingers loosened her hair from her hands, and instead they wrapped around the soft white ones.

"S'Alright pet." He whispered, and she sighed, leaning further into the embrace.

"What're we gonna do, Spike?" she whispered back, feeling his mouth kissing softly apon some small strip of exposed neck.

"Bide our time, pet. What you've always done. Let oppurtunity strike."

"I love you Spike," Buffy whispered, and his arms squeezed tighter around her, so, encouraged, she continued. "You've changed so much...proved me far more wrong than I'd like to admit, but...You've changed. And you're not like Angel. With Angel I was always reminded of how much older he was, every second..and with you I feel older somehow, until you do something...sing Sex Pistols in the shower or comment on WWII and then...then it doesn't really matter...then I'm happier...you do that for me Spike. You're the reason I'm alive, the reason I don't feel so alone."

"Pet," he whispered. "Buffy I'll always be here, never leave you."

Buffy turned in his embrace and kissed him hard. His touch was welcoming as they lay back.

"Never leave me, Spike." she said between breaths,"Never Leave Me."

Ron turned on his side on the hospitable bed. Madam Pomfrey had given him some potion, but it would take it's time.

It was dark. He exhaled and closed his eyes to the darkness. Next to his bed was a framed picture of Hermione, but she seemed to be asleep against the edge of a frame. He heard a soft breeze rattle the windows and opened his eyes...

Somewhere, soft breezes were making giggles in the air...

Soft musical sounds...

Ron coughed, and the sound was too loud to his own ears.

He opened his eyes and looked up, immediatly going rigid in his bed.

This was not the hospital wing.

He was staring up at a soft thatched roof, where the rafters were low. Sitting up, he was on hard stone. A large room it seemed, that once might have served as a dining hall but was now empty but for a large metal structure.

That he seemd to be in. Looking around, he saw a young woman handling a silver mirror in her fair hands, her dark hair tumbling over her face. When she looked up as he stirred, she seemed to relax a bit more and held the mirror up.

"Rise and Shine wolfie." she joked in a tight way. American. Typical.

But the way she looked, now when light hit her face just so...she looked familiar.

"Faith..." he whispered. She looked at him funny, as if he were crazy.

"Yeah. Something hit you over the head Oz?"

Oz.

Oh, bloody hell.

Bad dream. Bad, bad dream.

Well, actually, this would be the better position. He touched his chest and felt young hard flesh under his fingers. Picking the sheets away from his body he saw athletic and lanky legs that ended in feet too big to be his own.

Bad, bad, bad, dream.

There was a creak, and the door opened. A girl with large brown eyes watched him form the doorway before running, arms open, to him.

"Ron!"

No, he wanted to scream. I'm Oz.

Simple, calm. That's my way, he thought.

And this is a bad, bad dream.

Anya packed her last shirt into her bag and smiled as she zipped it up. Collecting various items from around the room, she placed them into a small carry bag and placed it next to her bag. Satisfied, she turned away and emitted a soft scream.

"Dumbledore!" She said breathlessly, fallen back against the bed. His face was somber, and he drew up a chair with his wand, gesturing for her to sit.

"Not all is well, Aud." he said softly, and she frowned at her own name. "You have a meeting with the new Minister. There are details of this death not yet handled as they should be." Anya looked up into his wizened gaze and sighed.

"The room behind the curtain, I suppose." she said softly. He looked sadly out the window into the smoggy streets of London.

"Not all is right with the world until the dead have found their revenge...their peace."


	11. Chapter 11

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince…And Others  
Chapter Eleven Spellshock

Drusilla pulled helplessly on her chains. Days had gone by and she'd been left here, all alone...Miss Edith lay cracked on the ground beside her, and pressing her chin to her chest, she could see her amulet glinting softly. She snapped her teeth loudly at it, her face going bumpy as she looked around her prison.

Pulling again on her chains, they held steady, and she tossed her head.

Throwing it back, she screamed into the night.

"Whoa, Whoa, hey..." Oz/'Ron' held up his hands defensivley as the girl tried to hug him. She looked confused for a moment before taking a step back and crossing her arms. Setting his hands on his lap, he looked around. "Hey, uh, I kinda need your help..." he said softly, examing the long robes on the chair next to him.

"With what?" the girl asked softly, sitting beside him and trying to take his hand, which he moved in time to scratch at his head, still looking around at his surroundings.

"I'm not Ron."

Snape was fuming at his desk.

Seething, perhaps more appropriatley, would be the word.

Draco fidjeted in his seat, trying to look casual with his arms draped over the back and his robes falling about his long body.

"What.Happened?" Snape growled in two grounding words, his hands clamped on the edge of the desk.

Draco shrugged, his face white and his lips dry as he ran his tounge over them.

"I dunno. I haven't been seeing her, and she hasn't been helping me lately..." He said, his voice shaking. Snape looked down at the wood of his desk, his jaw working furiously as he gritted his teeth.

"Well figure out," he said lowly, dangerously, "What happened, or you'll bleeding well have to pay for it!"

Anya sat in the large bare room and took a deep breath.

She sat crosslegged in a large circle of sand and breathed in. Candles flickered at five points of the circle, and incense burned inthe bowl set before her, and water rested in the bowl next to it.

The water was calm as Anya sat still, but as she began muttering the Sumerian words - strong and sure - the candles flared higher, and the inscence smoke wafted faster in a long circle, and the water began slowly to ripple out from the center.

She repeated the chant five times over and opened her eyes. She was concentrating, feeling the familiar coarse of magic flowing from the ground, through her, and out to the five candles, making them flare and falter with each breath in and out.

Closing her eyes again, she summoned the image of a face in her mind, and slowly, her hand guided her to a large country on the aged map next to her. Still her eyes were closed as she let the power redirect into the map. And as the power surged, she called out, loudly, and strongly:

"Godess, grant me the gift of communication. Grant me the gift of safe being, and of a winged messenger. Grant me that I may send forward my need of help to another...Grant that she whom this mesage reaches is brought safely and unharmed...Godess, grant me my wish and depart."

She repeated this in Sumerian, and in Egyptian and a few demonic languages, and still the power surged into the aged map.

And then she opened her eyes to see the water rolling in small waves, and the incence smoke swirling higher and higher...and the candles were flaming, the heat unbearable almost, but she continued, and spoke her message loudly, clearly.

"Willow..."

Buffy held the hot cup with two hands, slowly descending into the dungeons. As she passed, candles flickered on. Nibble, now tall as her waist followed on soft hooves and claws, his heavy beak snapping in surprise with each flaming candle. At the bottom, she turned down a large cooridor with buckled and locked doors on either side.

Pulling the wand from her pocket, she counted the doors, stopping at the fifth on. Pointing her wand at the lock, she whispered the pass word, and the door clicked softly, opening to reveal a small dungeon. At the point of her wand, torches lit up, illuminating the room with their soft blue glow.

A rustle awakened her senses and the reason of her being. Nibble darted ahead, and she heard a muffled cry.

"Slayer...come to taunt me with pretty words and fresh blooded animals?" she called softly with a laugh.

"Drusilla, you really are crazy, you know?" Buffy laughed, forcefully, and set the cup on the ground. Drusilla gaurded her warily. Buffy could see that she had worked on pulling the chains, for they wee softened and worn. Her dress was caught up with mothballs at the hem, and Miss Edith had been kicked away, a sliver of a crack running down her porcelain face.

Drusilla's face was pinched and drawn, and Buffy picked the cup up again and held it out.

"Hungry?" she offered. Drusilla sniffed, looking at the cup with insane hunger and distrust.

"Nasty filthy beasts. They don't scream when you drink, and there's no fear in the cup. It's all spilt...sunk down in the dirt...Pigs and cows..." Yet she allowed Buffy to tip the cups contents into her mouth, and drank almost ravenously what she had sniffed away before.

"So, Dru...wanna talk about things- like how you've been hanging out with Draco and Snape?" She asked once Drusilla had finished and licked the red from her lips. She smiled wickedly.

"Daddy will hurt me if I say..."

"Voldemort." Buffy stated dryly. Drusilla smiled and nodded happily.

"He is ever so impatient..."she said sadly.

Buffy opened her mouth to say something when the pounding of feet on the steps brought her attention away, and a moment later, Dawn arrived huffing in the doorway. With a distgusted look at Dru, she turned to Buffy, eyes wide.

"Soemthing happened to Ron..." she said, excitment and fear shaking her voice. Buffy looked once more at Drusilla before her wand swept over the room and she dashed from her room, pulling the door shut as Nibble darted out seconds before.

"All alone in the dark again, Miss Edith.." Dru called into the dark.

"It's Oz..." Dawn whispered as the sisters entered the room. A Ron-looking boy sat on the couch, looking relaxed, and his voice was level. Hermione sat, hands clasped before her, in another chair. Harry sat alone on his own couch, and Dawn immediatly sat next to him and grasped his hand. Dumbledore sat next to Ron/Oz, and Spike was leaning casually against the firplace, hands shoved in the pockets of his duster. Buffy walked slowly into the room, regarding everyone in it with slow calculating looks. When her eyes rested on Oz/Ron, her eyes narrowed, and he smiled.

"Hey Buff." he said casually, his voice somewhat off from the short man with outrageaous hair Buffy had known.

"Oz?" He smiled and she rushed forward to embrace him.

"How've you been?" she exclaimed over him, and he shrugged, leaning back and kicking his feet up.

"Been traveling lately, visiting Shamans and packs all up here- in Europe. Met a few guys in Asia and China, met a witch-doctor in Brazil and another werewolf in Mexico."

"Been around the world then, huh?" Buffy joked, a smile plastered on her face.

"Yeah..." he looked down and stared hard at the black linen of his robes. "How's Willow?" he asked softly.

"Good." Buffy said assuredly. Oz smiled and Buffy was reminded of the fact that i this /i wasn't Oz's body.

"So what happened to you and Faith?" she asked, and the room was crushed with the reminder of recent events. Oz got a far off look in his eyes and looked down at his knees.

"Not good. This Voldemort guy...he's really serious. And he's got a snake like, twenty feet long."

Next to Dawn, Harry shivered, and she grasped his hand and looked at him reassuredly. He smiled and turned back to the conversation.

"Is Ron okay?" Hermione asked from her couch, seemingly drowning in her robes as she pulled her knees to her chest. Oz looked to Buffy and then to Dumbledore.

"He won't hurt Faith or Me, but with Ron...I'd be more concerned with putting us in our rightful bodies for now."

Buffy smiled, and Dumbledore, silent till now, spoke up, automatically catching the rooms' attention.

"Perhaps when your friend, Miss Rosenburg arrives, she shall be able to help us out with a few of our problems, yes?"

Willow looked over to Kennedy and frowned.

"Kenn, could ya put that back? I, for one, do not envy becoming a shish-ka-bob!" Kennedy gave her girlfriend an eyeroll and replaced her spear on the shelf. Outside, the hot Brazilian sun beat down on their small home, and the air conditioner was broken, leaving the two inhabitants of the house intensly aggravated with each other.

"Chill. I'm just practicing, kay? God, it's like you don't trust me not to spear you." Kennedy turned away with haughty huff and Willow frowned again, the creases in her young face deepening.

"Hey, Missy. It's not that I don't trust you! I just don't trust that spear when it flies out your hand and spears me!" Willow remarked, turning back to her laptop and typing furiously. Kennedy looked back at her girlfriend and headed for the door.

"I'm going out." she said shortly, yanking open the door. Willow turned back sharply.

"Kennedy!" she called, but the Slayer was already gone.

Turning back she sighed when a cold feeling overcame her, and her eyes unfocused.

i "Willow," /i a voice said in he head. i "Willow, we need you in London..." /i 

Dawn giggled, following Harry up the stairs and into the Sixth year dorms. Harry pointed his wands over his shoulder, and the door locked as it clicked shut. Dawn dragged him down into the bed, and he followed her.

They rested for a monet, catching their breath as he looked down, her brown silky hair fanned out over the scarlet bedsheets. Her fingers traced his features before pulling his lips down to hers.

Harry was lost for a moment before he regained feeling, his lips working slowly and almost cautiously over hers as her hands skimmed over his body. Propping himself over her, his free hand ran over her body, touching lightly over the swell of her breasts and lingering over her belly, before moving lowly and drawing her robes up over her thighs.

She swallowed when his fingers touched on the sensitive skin there, and she smiled, kissing him lightly again. No words were spoken as she rolled over him and began kissing a steady path down his neck, pulling away at the robes there and she kissed lightly on his pale chest. His hand roamed over her back, his left hand fisting in her hair as he dragged her lips back to his.

Giggling she pulled away and straddled him. Uncertainly, his fingers played at the hem of her robe as it was pushed up to her midsection, exposing pink cotton panties. She smiled down at him again and he continued...

Spike watched Buffy from their bed as she disrobed. As she leaned over her drawers, he spoke up.

"Don't put those on." he said as she held up an oversized shirt and cutoffs. Looking over her shoulder at him, she saw his hungry look and smiled. Hands sliding behind her, she unclasped her bra and shimmied her panties down her slim legs. He watched as she stood before her full size mirror, brushing her hair. When he groaned uncomfortably, she listened to him unclasping his jeans.

"Come to bed." he said hoarsely. Grinning, she turned, bouncing lightly on her toes as she approached the bed. But instead of crawling into his waiting arms, she pulled the comforter and topsheet away and climbed in. Turning onto her side, she called perkily over to him.

"G'Night Spike."

He groaned heavily and reached for her. Tired of making him suffer, though she didn't think he'd done enough of it, she let him kiss her hungrily, hands sliding over her body as she responded eagerly to his touch.

"Love you, love you so much." he said as he pulled from their kiss. Buffy smiled touching his face softly.

"Love you too, Spike."


End file.
